


Playground Eyes

by spellingbee



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blanket Permission, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Jet Star (Danger Days), Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Nonbinary Show Pony, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Limited, Podfic Welcome, Single Dad Jet Star, Single Parents, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Teacher Party Poison, The Fabulous Killjoys Are Not MCR (Danger Days), kirbace killjoys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 131,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellingbee/pseuds/spellingbee
Summary: Gabriel Martín and his daughter Georgie move to a new town for a fresh start. There, they meet Stef Campbell, a fourth-grade teacher who slowly becomes a major part of their lives.(updates on the first and third sundays of each month)
Relationships: Blue/Red (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Jet Star/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 179
Kudos: 94





	1. Summer Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Week 51! One week left!!
> 
> This is a fic that's been in the works for a while now. It was one of the earliest AUs I thought of for the fandom, and I've been slowly working my way through it for a few months. I adore single-parent AUs, I adore the Girl, I adore Jet Star, I adore StarParty... how could I resist?!
> 
> Each chapter, aside from the prologue and epilogue chapters, focuses on a single month, adding up to one year. I hope you'll enjoy the journey!
> 
> Thank you to my friend pink ([pinkstationhero](https://pinkstationhero.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) and my fiance ace ([funkobraofficial](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) for beta-reading this!! 
> 
> Please enjoy, and check the end notes for character names if you need them! 💖

**Friday, July 26.**

Hefting the final box into his arms, Gabe lets out a relieved breath. At least everything seems to have survived the trip; at any rate, he hasn’t heard the telltale sound of broken glass rattling around, or found any damaged cardboard. He won’t really know for sure that everything’s in one piece until they finish unpacking, and, well, that could take weeks. Months, even.

“Could you get the door for me, Georgie?” he calls, and his daughter dashes forward to swing the door open. He grins at her as he passes, sets the box down on the old wood floor, and then stretches his arms high over his head, arching his back. His spine pops, and he can’t help but groan at how  _ wonderful _ that feels.

_ “Gross, _ daddy,” Georgie says, and he looks over to see her wrinkling her nose at him. She  _ hates _ it when he pops his back. He laughs, dropping back into a more relaxed pose.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’m gettin' old.” He reaches over and ruffles her hair, sending the tight curls flopping this way and that. She slaps his hand away, but she’s grinning. “What do you think?” he asks. “Not a bad place to live, huh?”

He and Georgie both take a moment to look around their new house. They’re standing in the middle of the living room right now, which is smaller than the one in their old house had been, but still has more than enough room for their couch, TV, and a bookshelf or two.The kitchen is off to their left, open to the living room and  _ much _ smaller than their old one had been, but that’s okay; Gabe’s got an entire  _ diner _ to cook in now, just a few short steps away. He doesn’t exactly need a huge kitchen just for himself and Georgie.

Straight across from the door is a narrow hallway. Earlier inspection had revealed four rooms that way: a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a laundry room. The bedrooms were both the same size and had the same amount of storage space, so Gabe had let Georgie choose which one she wanted, and she’d chosen the one overlooking the little flower garden someone had planted on the hill behind their house, rather than the one facing the street.

It really is a lot smaller than their house in Oregon, but then, there  _ are _ only two of them now. They’ll settle in soon enough.

“I love it,” Georgie says, beaming at him, and Gabe grins back.

“Let’s get all your stuff to your bedroom,” he says, bending down to pick up a box helpfully labeled “GEORGIE’S STUFF.” “And you can tell me what color you want your room painted, and if you need anymore shelves or anything.”

“Yeah!” Georgie picks up a second box and follows him down the hallway, humming a little tune Gabe had heard playing on the radio several times today.

As long as Georgie’s happy, he’s pretty sure he will be, too.

* * *

**Sunday, August 4.**

Everything’s finally ready for the grand opening. Gabe hopes.

He wrings out his cloth and tosses it into the bucket, surveys his kitchen once more. It’s nothing terribly fancy--most of the kitchen appliances were already here when he bought the place--but there’s more than enough space to work with, and everything’s spotlessly clean. The fridge is full of everything he’ll need, plates and bowls sit ready nearby, and his staff, small but more than up for the task, stands before him.

“Tomorrow’s the big day!” he says, and Bunny and Shaw, his waitstaff, both let out cheers, linking their arms together and throwing their free fists into the air. He laughs. “I don’t think you’re gonna be so cheerful when I’m running you ragged, but I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

Cole, a soft-spoken man with a blue streak in his bangs who doubles as Gabe’s co-chef and a third waiter, shrugs one shoulder with a little smile. “It’s a job,” he says, “and you pay better than most other places in town. We’ll see if it’s worth it once you’ve been open for a while.”

Gabe grins at him. “I hope it will,” he says. And it’s the truth. Gabe’s always loved cooking, and he’s dreamed of owning a restaurant since he was sixteen. He’s lucky; he has a good culinary education, some experience in the industry, and, most importantly, parents with pockets deep enough to lend their only child the money necessary to open a small diner in a small town, without having to worry too much about the first few months’ expenses.

Shaw, a shorter, overly-friendly person with dark hair and tan skin just a touch lighter than Gabe's own, with an ever-present smile, releases Bunny’s arm and slides forward on the skates that Gabe’s pretty sure aren’t technically kitchen-safe, but ae moves with such grace and speed that Gabe can’t bring himself to ask aer to remove them. “If we’re done for today,” ae says, “I’ve gotta head out.” Ae turns back to Bunny. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bunny darling! We’ll continue our little conversation then, hm?”

Bunny nods eagerly. She’s an excitable kid, fresh out of high school. Tiny, pale, and freckled with long brown hair. “See ya tomorrow, Shaw!” she says, bouncing on her toes.

“Yeah, you know what time to be here,” Gabe says, waving one hand. Shaw nods to him, and to Cole, and skates out the door. Gabe turns back to the other two. “You guys can go, too,” he says. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, bright and early.”

Cole gives him a lazy salute and says his goodbyes, heading out with Bunny close behind him. 

Gabe’s alone again, and he allows himself a little sigh. Tomorrow’s the big day.  _ Tomorrow’s the big day! _ He laughs to himself, feeling elated and, honestly, a little breathless. 

“Daddy,” Georgie calls from the dining room, “can we go to the park before it gets dark?”

He feels his smile widen, and he steps out of the kitchen to look over at his daughter, sitting in one of the booths with what looks to be her entire comic book collection spread out in front of her. “Sure,” he says. “Lemme lock up, and we can go now, if you want.”

Georgie flings both her arms into the air and lets out a  _ whoop! _ “I wonder if Sarah’s gonna be there!” she says, shuffling her comics into a pile to pick them up. “She said she’s startin’ fourth grade next month too. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we were in the same class? I wanna start out already havin’ at least  _ one _ friend in class.”

Gabe nods. “It would be  _ super _ awesome,” he says over his shoulder, heading back into the kitchen to shut off the light and make sure nothing’s on that doesn’t have to be. Georgie’s always been friendly, making friends easily; he’s glad to find that moving to a completely different state hasn’t changed that. “Even if Sarah’s not there, maybe you’ll make some more friends there today. Do you wanna bring your comics, or should we take ‘em back to the house before we go?”

She looks down at the stack of comics in her hands, eyes narrowing as she thinks. She hums for a moment, then carefully selects three of them, tucking them under her arm. “Most of ‘em can stay,” she says. “I’ll just bring these ones in case there’s no other kids there, or somethin’.”

“Good idea.” Gabe finishes up inside and takes Georgie outside, sending her to drop her comics off in the house while he locks up the doors. 

The park’s not far, just a little over a block away, and Gabe marvels over how easy it is to get around this town. Even Georgie’s new  _ school _ is within walking distance, which is so different from the city they’d moved from that he can’t help but marvel over it.

Georgie runs off as soon as they get there, spotting her friend Sarah over on the swings, so he settles himself on the ground beneath a tree and pulls his phone out to read a book. 

Tomorrow’s the big day, but today’s still a  _ good _ day. He’s looking forward to many more such days in the future.

* * *

**Friday, August 30.**

Stef reaches up to straighten the Reading Success poster for the third time today. They really need to add another tack to it, but last year the school board had gotten on their case about  _ “too many holes in the walls,” _ so that’d probably be pushing their luck. Still, what do they expect? Stef’s a  _ fourth-grade teacher, _ of  _ course _ they’re gonna have a bunch of tack and staple-holes in the walls!

They wonder if they ever get on Korse’s case for that kind of thing, but actually, Stef thinks, Korse’s classroom walls are  _ immaculate. _ How does the man  _ do _ it? 

“Okay,” they call over their shoulder, “how’s it look? Ready for learnin’?”

Their brother looks up from his phone and surveys the room with an unimpressed glance. He nods. “Looks good. The kids should like it.” He ducks his head back down to focus on his phone again, leaning against the doorframe and texting away.

Stef rolls their eyes, but they can’t bring themself to be at all upset with Marco. The fact that he’d willingly come out to help them finish setting up their classroom (though he hadn’t really  _ helped _ so much as just  _ stood off to the side and made comments _ ) was a victory in and of itself, and Stef’s grateful for it.

This is their fourth year of working as a full-time, completely qualified teacher, and they like to think that means they’re more than prepared for everything these kids are gonna throw at them.

Their first year working here had been tough, full of rowdy kids and trying to learn their way around a new school, getting used to being in  _ charge _ of kids and not just helping out in someone else’s class, or  _ learning _ how to be in charge.

Luckily, there are plenty of friendly faces on staff here. Like Manami, one of the kindergarten teachers and the best woman to go to for help with rambunctious kids. Or Doc, the music teacher who might just be one of the most interesting guys Stef’s ever  _ met. _ Or Simon, the second-grade teacher who had then been the most junior teacher, and who had taken them under his wing and helped them figure out what the  _ heck _ they were doing.

But this year they  _ more _ than know what the heck they’re doing. All summer they’ve been working on a perfect schedule for each subject, with more than enough wiggle room in case they need to spend a little extra time on one unit or another. They’ve got games and activities planned out, art projects and science experiments. They’ve got a stash of healthy and tasty snacks packed away in the cupboard. 

They’ve  _ got _ this. Korse who?  _ Stef’s _ class is gonna kick his class’s collective butts at every turn.

“Well,” they say, shaking themself out of their thoughts and leaning over to grab their bag from behind their desk, “I think I’m ready to head out. Wanna grab a bite to eat before I drop ya off?”

Marco shrugs, straightening up and tucking his phone away in the back pocket of his jeans. “Could go for a burger or somethin’,” he says. “Better’n goin’ to my appointment on an empty stomach. Did that last month an’ Marie chewed me out for not takin’ proper care of myself.”

Stef slips their bag over their shoulder and flicks the lightswitch off, reaching behind them to take Marco’s hand and listening intently as he talks. They’re still not used to hearing him  _ voluntarily _ talk about stuff like this, aren’t sure if they’ll  _ ever _ be. 

“Well, let’s make sure Marie doesn’t have anythin’ to yell at you for. Burgers sounds good! Prob’ly don’t have time to sit down an’ eat, so I hope ya don’t mind drive-through.”

“Have I  _ ever _ minded drive-through?”

“Nope! First time for everythin’, though, yeah?” Stef lets go of their brother’s hand for just a moment to lock the school doors behind them, then leads him back over to their car, a gorgeous Trans Am they’d both saved up for  _ months _ to get restored.

They slide into the driver’s seat and stare daggers at Marco until he’s seated beside them, seatbelt clicked solidly in place. Just before they start the engine, Stef leans up and over to press a kiss to Marco’s temple. 

Marco gives them the faintest of smiles, but it’s there, it’s  _ real, _ and Stef loves everything about it.

This is gonna be a great school year, Stef knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Names!  
> Gabe - Jet Star | Georgie - The Girl | Bunny - OC (Mad Rabbit) |Shaw - Show Pony  
> Cole - Cherri Cola | Stef - Party Poison | Marco - Kobra Kid | Manami - Blue  
> Doc - Doctor Death-Defying | Simon - OC (Kiwi Blast) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed this, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment!! I'd love to hear your thoughts!!  
> And visit me on tumblr!! [enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/)


	2. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first update of 2020! Hope January was a good month for all of you!  
> Playground Eyes will be updated once a month until completion, the first week of each month. 
> 
> BIG thank you to my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this! Ace was a huge help with brainstorming this chapter MONTHS ago, as well! Thanks babe 😘💕
> 
> Please enjoy!! 💖

**Friday, September 20.**

It’s a Friday, the end of the third week of the new school year, and Stef only has to finish correcting today’s spelling tests, and then they get to go home and do something fun, like stay up until _eleven_ watching Netflix with their brother (look, they’re a _teacher,_ okay, they have to be up at six every weekday, and they can’t function without a solid eight hours of beauty sleep, so they don’t wanna throw off their sleep schedule _too_ much)!

The tests are easy enough to correct. There’s only so many ways to misspell _‘rainforest,’_ after all.

There’s a knock on Stef’s classroom door. They look up to find Simon, one of their favorite people and _definitely_ their favorite teacher, peering inside, a concerned look on his face.

“Hey,” he says, flicking his blond bangs out of his face. “Sorry to bother you, but I think one of your kids missed her bus or something.”

“Oh, man!” Stef quickly gets to their feet, tossing their red pen onto their desk. “She okay? Upset or anythin’? Wait, who is it?

“I don’t know her name,” Simon says apologetically. “She’s just standin’ out front; only recognized her ‘cause I’ve seen her walkin’ with you a couple times. The buses already left a while ago, so I guess she could be waitin’ on someone to pick ‘er up. If that’s the case, though, they’re pretty late.”

“School ended _half an hour ago,_ Si! They’re _more_ than late!” Stef doesn’t bother to conceal their worry. They’ve got seventeen kids in their class this year, and they love each and every one of them.

Stef and Simon march down the halls, much quieter now than during the day. Stef hopes that whichever kid it is isn’t too upset; but if she is, Stef’s more than ready to offer her comfort in the form of hugs and access to their secret stash of Oreos, and they’ll _gladly_ chew out whichever parent forgot to pick up their _entire child._

They arrive in the lunch room, and Simon points out the wide windows to the benches outside, where a single child waits by the empty pick-up zone.

“Oh, dang,” Stef says, and they’re kind of _boiling_ mad, because what the heck kind of _monsters_ would forget a kid like _Georgie_ for _half a freaking hour?_

“Thanks, Simon,” they say, and dash outside.

It’s not too hot out today, they notice. It’s still mid-September, still technically summer and not quite fall, but it’s cooler today than it has been so far this month.

Georgie looks up, probably at the sound of Stef’s feet on the ground, and grins at them. She’s a sweet kid, and real feisty, with dark brown skin and a head of thick curls, seemingly always ready with a helping hand or a quick remark. Stef has to wonder whether her parents have similar personalities, or if she drives them crazy. They’ve only seen her parents from a distance, once or twice: a hugely tall man and woman, the man with skin about as dark as hers and bleach-blond curls, the woman with lighter, tan skin and crazy pink-and-green hair. Hm. Georgie probably gets her personality from them, if they think about it.

“Heya, Mx. Campbell!” she greets, swinging her feet back and forth under the bench.

“Hi, Georgie,” Stef says, giving her one of their best, most reassuring grins. “Did you miss your bus, kiddo?”

She shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. “No,” she says. “My daddy’s s’posed to pick me up.” She frowns. “He’s late, though.”

“He sure is,” Stef agrees, and barely keeps themself from adding a scathing remark about her missing parent. “Do you want me to call ‘im?” they ask instead.

Georgie narrows her eyes and purses her lips. She hums for a moment, and opens her mouth to reply, when the sound of shoes slapping against pavement catches her attention, and they both turn toward the source of the noise.

“Oh!” she says, jumping to her feet. “Daddy!”

Stef blinks, startled. This is not, in fact, the tall, grinning black man they had seen several times at a distance, but a slightly-less tall man with tan skin and a head of hair nearly as curly as Georgie’s and a shade or two lighter.

The man only comes to a stop when he’s directly in front of Georgie, and then he bends at the waist, his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Oh my god, Georgie,” he pants between breaths, “I’m _so_ sorry I’m late!”

He straightens up a moment later, giving Stef a full view of him, and they freeze in place as they suddenly take in the sight of the most beautiful man they’ve ever seen in their life.

He may not be as tall as the guy Stef had been thinking of, but he’s still a good couple of inches taller than Stef is. His curly hair cascades down past his shoulders, and though it’s a little damp with sweat, it’s still _gorgeous._

He’s broad-shouldered, his baggy T-shirt obscuring his figure a bit. There’s stubble on his chin and above his lip, and Stef doesn’t usually go for that kind of thing, but _dang_ does it look good on him.

“...still not used to school getting out so much earlier than your old one,” the man is saying, and Stef blinks, refocuses on the situation at hand.

“Next time you’re going to be late,” Stef says, schooling their expression into their best _disapproving schoolteacher_ look, “call the school so we can make arrangements, ‘kay?”

The guy--Mr. Martín, Stef figures, if this really _is_ Georgie’s father--at least looks sheepish.

“I am _so_ sorry,” he says. "Work got a little crazy, and I lost track of time, and--sorry. There’s really no excuse for this.” Mr. Martín turns to Georgie. “Do you have all your things?”

Georgie nods, beaming, and holds up her little yellow backpack. She doesn’t seem too upset at having been forgotten for half an hour. “Can we get McDonald’s?” she asks.

“We’ve got food at home, kiddo,” Mr. Martín says, and ruffles her hair before turning his attention to Stef again. “Thanks for waiting with her. I really appreciate that. I’m not usually the one who picks her up, but next time I do, I’ll be more careful with the time.”

Right, right. Married, probably. To that pretty girl with the dyed hair, probably. Or, well, Georgie _really_ looks more like the guy. Maybe Mr. Martín’s married to that guy? Damn, the hot ones are always taken. It’s not _fair._

“Uh, it was no problem,” Stef says, blinking and forcing themself to calm down. “Uh, yeah, just, y’know. Call the school next time. I’d be happy to keep her in the classroom with me ‘til you get here.”

“I’ll definitely do that in the future,” Mr. Martín promises, and he smiles, a genuine smile that stretches his lips and dimples his cheeks. Stef’s heart beats a little faster.

Look, they haven’t dated in a while, okay? They’re allowed to figuratively drool over hot dads!

“Yeah, uh, yeah, perfect,” they say. “I’m just glad it all worked out. Um.” They pause. Then, “Well, I’d better get goin’! Got some more tests to grade before I can go home, and, ah, I’m sure you’re busy, so--”

“Oh, right, right, of course,” Mr. Martín says, nodding and sending his curls falling over his face. “Yeah, I need to get Georgie home so she can get somethin’ to eat.” He squeezes Georgie’s shoulder, and Georgie grins.

“Bye, Mx. Campbell!” she says, waving. “See you Monday!” 

“Bye, Georgie,” they say, smiling at her and very carefully not looking at her _very_ hot father. “Have a great weekend, okay?”

“I will!” Georgie looks up at Mr. Martín, tugging his hand. “Let’s go, I’m _hungry.”_

“Okay, okay, we’re goin’!” Mr. Martín laughs, a quiet chuckle. “Thanks again, Mx. Campbell!” 

Georgie and her father are already halfway down the road by the time Stef realizes they should have replied.

Too late now.

They turn and head back to their classroom.

\-----

Fridays are pretty good days for business, Gabe’s found. A good, steady flow of customers throughout the day, as people take their lunch breaks or stop in for a quick cup of coffee or soup to go, or cash in a paycheck and treat themselves to a good meal.

It’s great! Gabe needs the money and he needs the advertisement a packed parking lot and satisfied customers brings him, he likes rushing around the kitchen and cooking up hot, tasty food for everyone.

The problem today is that, while he doesn’t have many people on staff anyway, today it’s just him and Shaw, taking care of everything.

Without Cole here, Gabe’s the only one in the kitchen. Without Bunny, Shaw’s the only one running tables. The dining room has been at least half-full all day, and it’s just now _finally_ starting to die down. Still, there’s more orders coming in as a few stragglers arrive.

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese!” Shaw calls, adding another ticket to the carousel. 

Gabe grits his teeth. He’s three tables behind where he should be, and he really doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of having people start walking out of his restaurant, especially since this is only his second month of business.

He flips the burgers and checks them one last time; done! Relieved, he quickly plates them and passes them through the window to Shaw. Now he’s only two tables behind.

Gabe glances at the clock as he hurries over to check the next item. It’s 2:13. Oh, Georgie’s school should be out soon. Hopefully Lola won’t mind sticking around for a few extra minutes so he can get caught up back here before making sure she’s all settled in.

He plates the next table’s orders and passes them to Shaw. Now he’s only one table behind, and no new orders have come in yet. Good. Now he’ll have time to clean up a little between customers.

It’s 2:21 now. Georgie should be here soon.

...Wait.

Wait a second.

It’s _Friday,_ which means Lola and Kai don’t work today, which means he has to go get her!

And he’s _late!_

Gabe throws off his apron and frantically turns off the stove, stripping off his plastic gloves and hairnet as he races through the doors to the dining room. “Gotta go get Georgie!” he calls to Shaw. “Kitchen’s closed ‘til I get back!”

“Didn’t school end at two?” Shaw calls back, gliding over to the next table on aer skates, a pot of coffee in hand.

Gabe’s heart stops in his chest. “Shit,” he says, forgetting for a moment that he’s in a room full of customers and should really be keeping his dialogue family-friendly. “Shit! I’m _late!”_

He bolts out the door without waiting for a response and starts running down the sidewalk. He’s lucky there aren’t many people out right now, but he still has to dodge around people, half-muttered _“sorry’s”_ leaving his mouth each time. He’s more than halfway to the school, legs and lungs burning, when he realizes he probably should have brought his car instead of going on foot.

He hopes Georgie’s okay, hopes she hasn’t been waiting outside the whole time. He’s almost _half an hour_ late! He’s a terrible father!

He turns the corner and enters the school’s pick-up zone, feet slapping against the sidewalk and his blood rushing in his ears, and he sees Georgie stand up from a bench, her little yellow backpack in hand.

Gabe doesn’t slow down until he’s reached her, and he wants to ask her if she’s okay, to apologize to her, but first he has to _breathe_ again. It’s harder than he’d have thought; he _really_ needs to listen to Madhavi and work on his leg strength a little more. 

After a moment, he straightens up a little, feeling well enough to speak. “Oh my god, Georgie, I’m _so_ sorry I’m late.”

He manages to stand up straight then, and as his breathing evens out, he’s able to look her in the eye. She’s watching him with a placid expression, but in her eye he can see a twinkle of amusement, and of annoyance. He’s in trouble.

“I’d forgotten that Lola and Kai don’t work today,” he explains. “And I lost track of time with the rush that came in. I’m still not used to school getting out so much earlier than your old one.”

“Next time you’re going to be late,” says a voice Gabe doesn’t recognize, “call the school so we can make arrangements, ‘kay?”

Gabe lifts his gaze from his daughter to see a person standing just a little farther back, one eyebrow arched up and a disapproving look on their face. He immediately feels himself shrink down a little, embarrassed and angry at himself for failing this most _basic_ part of parenthood: _not forgetting your fucking kid._

“I am _so_ sorry,” he says again. “Work got a little crazy, and I lost track of time, and--sorry.” He stops himself before he can ramble on too long. “Sorry. There’s really no excuse for this.” He turns back to Georgie, careful not to let his nerves show on his face as he smiles at her. “Do you have all your things?”

Georgie nods, lifting her backpack up to show him. “Can we get McDonald’s?” she asks, and Gabe berates himself once again. Damn it, she’s been sitting here for half an hour, of _course_ she’s hungry.

“We’ve got food at home, kiddo,” he says, and ruffles her hair apologetically.

She sticks her tongue out at him, so he figures he’s been forgiven. _That’s_ a relief, at least.

He turns back to the other person, takes in their appearance. They’re about average height, with light skin and bright firetruck-red hair, pulled back from their face in a short ponytail. They’re thin, wiry, and dressed in a short-sleeved button-down and slacks. Their nails are painted a red nearly the same shade as their hair.

They’re...well. _Pretty_ doesn’t seem to quite fit, but it’s as close as he can get. 

He sucks in a breath and says, “Thanks for waiting with her. I _really_ appreciate that. I’m not usually the one who picks her up, but--” damn it, he’s making excuses again, “--next time I do, I’ll be more careful with the time.”

The person blinks, then nods, their expression softening a little. “Uh, it was no problem,” they say. “Just, y’know, call the school next time. I’d be happy to keep her in the classroom with me ‘til you get here.”

“I’ll definitely do that in the future,” he replies, relief making himself relax a little. Classroom, huh? He wonders if this is Georgie’s teacher, then. Mx…. Mx…. Oh, _what_ was their name?

“Yeah, perfect,” they say, smiling faintly at him. “I’m just glad it all worked out.” They pause, and they stare at each other for one long, drawn-out moment. Gabe notices that their cheeks are dusted with freckles, their eyes a hazel leaning more toward green. 

They clear their throat, and Gabe feels his cheeks heat up. He hadn’t meant to _stare._ “Well, I’d better get goin’!” they say, glancing away, off to one side. “Got some more tests to grade before I can go home, and, ah, I’m sure you’re busy, so--”

“Right, right.” Gabe cuts them off, hoping to save himself some more embarrassment. “Yeah, I, uh, I need to get Georgie home so she can get somethin’ to eat.” He puts his hand on Georgie’s shoulder and gives it a little squeeze.

“Bye, Mx. Campbell!” she says, and, _oh,_ that’s right! Mx. _Campbell_ , the teacher Georgie’s been _raving_ about since her first day of school, when Mx. Campbell _purportedly_ set a dollar bill on fire to showcase some kind of chemical reaction or something. Gabe’s not entirely sure what happened, but his daughter’s never been so psyched up for school ‘til now, so they’re pretty great in his book. “See you Monday!”

Mx. Campbell looks over at Georgie again and breaks into a grin. “Bye, Georgie! Have a great weekend, okay?”

“I will!” Georgie takes his hand and looks up at him. “Let’s _go,_ I’m _hungry!”_

He can’t help but laugh a little at the face she pulls, mock anger and real impatience coloring her features. “Okay, okay,” he says. “We’re goin’!” He looks at Mx. Campbell again, sees a soft smile on their face that makes them look even _nicer._ “Thanks again, Mx. Campbell!” he says.

Mx. Campbell doesn’t reply, just waves one hand, a little distractedly, Gabe thinks. He shrugs, and turns away to head back to the diner, Georgie’s hand clutched in his.

“What do you wanna eat when we get back?” he asks. “Anything off the menu, to make up for leaving you here so long.”

Georgie hums, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips. “I don’t know yet,” she says. “Somethin’ _good_ though.”

“I don’t make anything that’s _not_ good, kiddo.”

“Your bean soup is _nasty!”_ she corrects, making a horrifyingly realistic retching noise.

“Don’t do that, you’ll make yourself throw up. And my bean soup is _delicious,_ you just don’t like beans. And don’t worry, you’ll like ‘em when you get older.”

“Jason’s old, an’ _he_ doesn’t like beans!”

“Jason’s _thirty-one,_ and he has _bad taste._ He also doesn’t like my banana bread. _‘Too moist,’_ ” he says, in a squeaky voice that sounds nothing like Georgie’s step-father. _“‘Too much cinnamon.’_ ” He scoffs. “Enjoy your flavorless, crusty-ass banana bread, _Jason.”_

Georgie giggles, swinging their connected hands back and forth. “I’m gonna tell Dad you said that,” she says warningly.

Gabe widens his eyes comically, presses his free hand against his chest. “You _wouldn’t!”_ he exclaims. “Please, Georgie, don’t _tell_ him, I’ll do _anything!”_

“”Will you make me a grilled cheese?” she asks, grinning mischievously. “With chicken noodle soup instead of tomato?”

He makes a face at her. “I guess,” he says. “But that just goes to show that your taste is just as bad as Jason’s.” He swiftly pulls his hand from her grasp and reaches over to tickle her opposite side.

She throws herself against his legs, letting out a shriek of laughter. “Don’t!” she whines. “You’re the _worst!”_

He laughs and takes her hand again. “Sorry,” he says, knowing he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I love you.”

Georgie tilts her head back and looks up at him, beaming. “Love you, too,” she says, and squeezes his hand.

It’s another good day, in a long string of good days. He may not be the _best_ parent, but he makes his kid happy, provides for her as best he can, and that’s the important part.

\-----

“Marco!” Stef calls, dropping their bag by the door as they enter the apartment.

“Polo,” comes Marco’s disinterested reply.

Stef rolls their eyes and follows his voice into the living room, where they find him on the couch, his long legs stretched out over the cushions, eyes glued to his phone. It’s an image Stef’s gotten used to seeing over the last few years, but it doesn’t fill them with the same sense of dread it used to, so they don’t mind it.

They walk over and lift Marco’s feet up, settling themself into the corner of the sofa and placing his feet into their lap.

Marco glances up from his phone, his lips twitching into a tiny smile, and Stef’s heart soars.

“So I saw the most beautiful man in the world today,” they blurt out.

Marco rolls his eyes and looks back down at his phone, thumbs _tap-tap-tapping_ against the screen. “Every man’s the most beautiful you’ve ever seen,” he says.

“Not true!” Stef protests, leaning over to poke at Marco’s knee through the hole in his jeans.

“That guy at the grocery store last week,” Marco says, still typing on his phone. “The guy at the garden center. Simon. That--”

“Not _true!”_ Stef says again, more emphatically. “You’re just listing out hot guys, okay, that’s _different!_ And anyway, Simon’s not a _guy,_ so--”

“I can list other people you’ve called ‘the most beautiful _whatever_ you’ve ever seen,’” Marco says. “Holly. Manami. Shaw. The girl from the--”

“Shut _up!”_ Stef says, grabbing a throw pillow and chucking it at him. It bounces off his shoulder and lands on the floor, and Marco barely gives it a glance before going back to his phone. Jerk. “Anyway, whatever, it’s Friday night! Time to watch some crappy old sitcoms! Tonight feels like a Munsters night, huh?”

“Oh,” Marco says, in That Voice. “Sorry, Stef. Got a date tonight.”

“Oh,” Stef replies, trying their best to keep the disappointment and resentment out of their tone. “What time?”

Marco glances at his phone again. “‘Bout an hour,” he says. “Try to be nice to him this time, okay?”

Stef doesn’t reply, because they don’t know what to say. If their brother won’t listen to them when they express their worry over the situation, well, what’s the point in bringing it up _every_ time?

Instead, they pick up the remote and turn on the TV, and, doing their best to sound cheerful, say, “We can fit in a couple episodes before then! Let’s see, what one did we leave off on?”

Thankfully, Marco doesn’t bring up his date with Dante again, just settling in to watch The Munsters, intermittently texting or whatever it is he’s doing on his phone.

When Marco leaves an hour later, Stef resigns themself to an evening spent alone.

* * *

**Monday, September 23.**

“Bye, Daddy!” Georgie calls, rushing into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Bye, Georgie!” Gabe says, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head, carefully keeping his grease-coated gloved hands from touching her. “Have fun at school today, okay?”

“I will!” She grins at him, and lets go. “See you after school! Lola’s pickin’ me up today, so don’t worry, okay?”

He smiles sheepishly at her. “Will do. Now go on, you don’t wanna be late for Mx. Campbell. They might blame me.” He chuckles a little, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Martín, I’ll totally have her there on time!” Lola, Georgie’s babysitter, says from the doorway. “Come on, Georgie, let’s leave your daddy alone to finish his work, m’kay?”

“Okay.” Georgie runs over to her, turning around to wave to him. “Bye!” she calls again. “Love you!”

“Love you too!” he calls back, and then they’re both gone. He turns back to his work, and a moment later, hears a little laugh off to his other side. He rolls his eyes and looks over at Cole.

“Yes?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Nothin’,” Cole says, grinning down at the pancakes he’s making. “She’s a cute kid, is all.”

“Yeah,” Gabe says, smiling at the pile of pork sausage in front of him. “She’s the cutest. She’s the _best_ kid.” He forms another patty between his hands. “Don’t let other parents try to tell you otherwise. _My_ kid’s definitely the _best_ kid.”

Cole hums a reply, shooting Gabe another smile before hurrying off to finish other work elsewhere.

Gabe spends the rest of the morning in a great mood, humming to himself as he works. 

* * *

  
  


**Wednesday, September 25.**

Stef always feels a little bad about having to shush kids who are having a good time together. If they could, they’d let all the kids play and have fun all day, but unfortunately this is a _school,_ and that means that they have to teach things and keep everybody on task.

“Sarah,” they say quietly, standing behind the giggling girls, “Georgie. I need you to focus on your reading, okay? You can talk at recess.”

“Sorry, Mx. Campbell,” the girls say simultaneously, causing them both to burst into giggles again. 

Unfortunately, Stef can’t show them any sign of amusement, for fear of encouraging them, so they say, more sternly, _“Girls._ Don’t make me separate you two.”

Sarah mutters another _“sorry”_ and turns back to the book open on the desk in front of her, but Georgie takes another moment to quiet down before doing the same. 

“Thanks for listening,” Stef says with a smile, and they catch the furtive glances between the two of them just before they turn away, so they figure they’ll be back over here to quiet them down again in a few minutes. Oh, well. So be it.

Sinking back into their seat, Stef tugs absentmindedly at the hem of their cardigan and looks up at the clock. There’s only about ten minutes left of silent reading time, and then Stef has a fifteen-minute break while the kids yell and scream and climb things they shouldn’t climb outside for a bit. 

They glance around the room and don’t see anyone distracting anyone else from their reading, so they pull out their teacher’s manual and stare blankly at it while they think about their plans for the rest of the day. 

When the kids come in from recess, Stef’s gonna set them to learning about science. It’s just reading and lecturing today, but they’re hoping to be able to do a fun lab on Friday. After that, it’s gym class, and then closing group time before they send all the kids home for the day. They’ve already got the rest of the week’s lessons planned out, so they’ll only have to stay long enough to shut everything down, and maybe go bug Simon or Manami for a bit before they head home.

Then they’ve gotta drive Marco to his appointment, and pick up groceries--they wonder if Marco’d be up for helping them cook tonight, if he’s got the energy for that--have dinner... maybe Shaw has time to hang out tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or this weekend? Ae’s been busier since ae started that new job, and Stef definitely hasn’t had much time, thanks to school. They’ve missed hanging out with aer.

Stef sighs quietly and takes their glasses off, folding them and setting them down between the pages of the book. They’ll text aer while the kids are outside.

They look up at the clock again. There’s only one minute ‘til recess.

Stef stands up a little too quickly, nearly knockin over their chair, and claps their hands twice. “Alright,” they announce, “I want everyone to put their books away and line up at the door for recess! And remember to do so _quietly,_ please!”

The kids scramble to obey everything but the last part, chatting and giggling as they stuff their books in their desks or lockers and race to be first in line.

Stef rolls their eyes and hides a grin, moving to stand in the doorway and reminding everyone not to run until they hit the pavement outside.

“Have fun!” they call as the bell rings, and the kids make their way to the playground.

“Bye, Mx. Campbell!” a few of them call back, and Stef smiles and waves to them. 

Once they’re all out of sight, Stef ducks back into the classroom and grabs their phone, shooting off a quick text.

> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“wannw habg out with me and marco tonight?"_

They don't expect to get a reply anytime soon--Shaw's no doubt busy with work right now--so they move to tuck their phone back into their bag.

Then they remember that they'd wanted to ask Marco about dinner before they forget, so they unlock their phone again and send him a text, too.

> **TO:** baby bro: _"wanna make dinner wurh me tonigbt? you can pixk what we eat!!"_

Less than a minute later, they have a reply.

> FROM: baby bro: _"okay but we're making spaghetti and i demand tiny meatballs"_

Stef makes to reply, but their attention is snagged by another notification: Shaw replying.

> FROM: ✨show pony✨: _“absofuckinlutely. your place? what time?”_
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“like 7? unless youb wanna have dinnr with us but i gotta asdk marco.”_
> 
> **TO:** baby bro: _“spagehtii’s good we cnando baby meatballs for m,y baby bro. shaw for dinner?”_
> 
> FROM: baby bro: _“i’m not into cannibalism and i literally just said i want spaghetti”_
> 
> FROM: baby bro: _“but okay sure”_

Stef actually laughs aloud at Marco’s response. Every time he makes a joke, Stef can’t help but feel wildly happy. Even when the jokes are at _their_ expense.

> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“marcdo sayd dinner’s good! come over around 6. we r havin spaghetiti.’_
> 
> FROM: ✨show pony✨: _“fancy. should i bring anything?”_
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“garlic bread???”_
> 
> FROM: ✨show pony✨: _“perfect! i’ll snag some from the diner after my shift.”_
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“tonight we feast!!”_

They don’t get a reply after that, so Stef figures ae had to get back to work.They glance at the time; it’s been seven minutes. Their break time’s just about half over. They tuck their phone back into their bag and head over to the whiteboard, to write the necessary information for science class.

\-----

“Hey, Mr. Boss-Man,” Shaw sing-songs from the window, and Gabe lifts his head to see aer leaning on the shelf, aer chin resting on aer folded arms.

“Hi, Shaw,” he says, wringing out the cloth he’s using to wipe down the counters and setting it aside. “What’s up?”

“Can I get some of your fancy-shmancy garlic bread to go?” Ae bats aer eyelashes at him, and he laughs. Aer smile widens. “I got a dinner party with some friends in a bit, and I wanna really _wow_ ‘em with my offering.”

Gabe laughs again, nodding. “Sure thing,” he says. “So long as you don’t mind that it was made this morning.”

Shaw scoffs. “Oh, _please,”_ ae says. “Like a little thing like _time_ could ruin something of yours. All your food probably only _improves_ with age."

He rolls his eyes. "That's either a clever insult or a terrible compliment. Garlic bread doesn't exactly _ferment,_ Shaw."

“I _mean_ that your food is so wonderful and angelic--just like _you-_ -that the effects of time don’t actually _affect_ your delightful cooking.”

“Shaw, there’s no need for flattery. I was going to give you the garlic bread, anyway.” He leans to one side to look into the dining room beyond them. “It’s pretty slow out there,” he says. “I think Cole and I can handle the rest if you want to get going. Should just be coffees and things ‘til closing.”

“I was hoping so,” ae says, disappearing from view only to reappear a few seconds later in the kitchen doorway, untying aer apron, “because I told Stef I’d be over before seven.”

“As long as you don’t make a habit of leaving _too_ early,” Gabe says, moving over to select the best of the few remaining loaves of garlic bread from this morning, “then I don’t mind.” He hands the loaf over to aer. “Let me know what your friends think of it, okay? I need validation to live.”

“Oh, _pshaw,”_ ae says. “As if you don’t get enough validation every time Bunny and I come back here with a _‘compliments to the chef.’_ ”

He laughs again, feeling his face heat up a little. “Well,” he says, “that definitely helps.”

He and Shaw exchange a few more words while he works and ae gets ready to go, and once ae’s gone, the kitchen feels almost _too_ quiet.

Well, once his business starts bringing in a little more money, he’ll be able to afford a few more employees.

For now, he’ll just have to deal with the quietude until Georgie comes in to help him wash the dishes.

\-----

Stef's frowning at a mini meatball recipe on their phone when they hear the knock, followed shortly by, _"Hello,_ my lovelies, open the fuck up!"

"Can you get the door, Marco?" they ask their brother, who's staring resolutely at a pot of water that hasn't yet started to boil.

Marco nods and makes his way out of the kitchen. They can hear the door open as they open up the can of breadcrumbs they'd purchased earlier.

"Marco!" they can hear Shaw exclaim. "You look so _good,_ all that metal gone-- _beautiful!"_

"Good to see you, too," Marco says, and it's quiet, but Stef knows what it must mean to Shaw to hear. 

"Hey, Shaw! Get in here and tell me if I'm doin' this right!" they call. "And can I use dried parsley instead'a fresh?"

"How the hell should I know?" Shaw says, stepping--well, rolling (ae _never_ takes aer skates off)--into the kitchen, pulling Marco along by his hand clasped in aer's. "I don't even know what the fuck you're _makin',_ dumplin'."

"Mini meatballs," Marco says.

"You work in a _restaurant,"_ Stef says, pitching their voice up to increase the audible incredulity, "and you mean to tell me you _don't know if I can use dried parsley instead'a fresh?!"_

"It's not like I work in the kitchen!" Shaw protests, setting a bag down on the counter. 

"Still! Shouldn't you pick it up by, like, osmosis or somethin'?" Stef nudges aer in the ribs as ae draws closer, and Shaw laughs, swatting at them.

"Do _you_ pick up your baby brother's frankly _excellent_ coding skills by osmosis?" Shaw asks, and Stef sticks their tongue out at aer.

"Shut _up,"_ they say, "and help cook!"

* * *

**Friday, September 27.**

It’s a week after that first time that Stef sees Mr. Martín again.

The past few days--those times when Stef’s glancing out the window at just the right time--they’ve only seen Georgie get picked up by the woman with the wild-colored hair or the man with the bleach-blond curls. Each time, they’ve greeted her with a hug or a kiss on the cheek, and Stef just _can’t figure it out._ Whose kid _is_ she? Maybe the woman is Mr. Martín’s sister? Georgie’s aunt? 

Whatever. It’s not their _business_ to know. 

Still, glancing out the lunchroom windows when they pass by to go ask Manami if she’s got some extra googly eyes for next week’s art project, they spot Mr. Martín’s luxurious head of hair and stop in their tracks to watch.

He says something to Georgie--obviously they can’t hear what he’s saying through the glass and across the distance, probably wouldn’t have been able to hear him even without those things, just because of how noisy it must be out there with all the kids and parents heading home--and Georgie leaps up to give him a high-five. It’s cute. 

He’s ridiculously attractive when he grins at her, the way his eyes light up and his mouth widens, his whole face just screaming _joy._

They watch as the two of them turn away and walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk.

It’s not their _business!_

Stef shakes their head to clear it and continues on to the kindergarten hall.

* * *

  
  


**Saturday, September 28.**

“You’re sure you can handle it?” Gabe asks, hoping he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. 

Cole, endlessly patient, definitely one of Gabe’s favorite people, just smiles at him. “I’m sure,” he says. “It’s only for a couple of hours. You need a break, you’ve been working almost nonstop since we opened.” And he means _since August,_ not just _since six this morning._ “Enjoy the nice weather, have fun with Georgie. I can handle the kitchen, Gabe.”

“If you’re sure,” Gabe says, and Cole rolls his eyes good-naturedly at him. 

“Have _fun,”_ he repeats, and flicks his towel at Gabe. “Now get going, or I’ll chase you out of here myself. Or, better yet, I’ll have Shaw chase you out. Ae’s like a demon on those wheels, and ae’d get a kick out of chasing you around like that. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

That startles a laugh out of Gabe, and he can’t help but agree. “I’ll be back by five,” he says. “Hopefully before then, so I can help with the dinner rush--”

“You’ll be back at 5:30, no earlier,” Cole says. “Seriously, Gabe, I know you wanna spend more time with your kid. The three of us can handle it without you for a while.”

“Okay,” Gabe says, and sucks in a breath. “Okay, okay, yeah. Great. Perfect. I’ll--I’ll go get Georgie. See you at five.” He turns and heads out into the dining room, hanging his apron up as he goes.

“5:30!” Cole calls after him, and Gabe laughs again, under his breath.

There aren’t many people in the dining room right now: two booths, one with three people and one with four, and a single person seated at the bar, who’s been nursing a cup of coffee for a few hours now, scribbling in a notebook and muttering under their breath. It’s fairly quiet, though Gabe knows it’ll pick up in a bit.

He makes his way over to Georgie, who’s seated in an out-of-the-way booth in the far corner. She’s got papers spread all across the table, and a box of markers laying open on its side. 

She’s drawing something he can’t quite see, something using a lot of color, and she looks up when she hears him approaching. “Daddy!” she exclaims, quickly shuffling all the papers into one pile. “Are we gonna go now?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Cole’s got the kitchen. Do you wanna bring your drawings, or leave ‘em here?”

“Leave ‘em here,” she says, putting the markers back in rainbow order. “They might get dirty if I take ‘em, and I’m makin’ somethin’ really cool so I don’t want ‘em to get dirty.”

“Oh? What are you makin’?”

“It’s a secret!” Georgie says, sticking her tongue out at him. “You’ll see it when I’m _done!”_

“Okay, okay.” Gabe grins at her, and puts his hand on her back when she stands up. “Do you need to get anything before we leave? Or should we just put your things in the office and get outta here?”

“I don’t need anythin’,” she says, and runs off to his office before he can even ask if she wants any help.

She’s back a few moments later, hands empty, and she grabs one of his hands. “C’mon, _c’mon,_ ” she says, tugging him toward the door. 

“Bye-bye, pumpkin,” Gabe hears Shaw call from somewhere in the room, “have fun at the park!”

“I will!” Georgie calls back. “Bye, Shaw!”

The park’s close enough that it’s practically their back yard, and, as usual, Georgie runs off as soon as they get there, heading over to a group of kids hanging out around the slide. He sighs a little, and sits down under a tree. Is it really considered _spending time_ with Georgie if he’s just sort of supervising from a distance?

Whatever. Being away from the stress of the kitchen will do him good either way, and if Georgie gets tired of her friends, she might find that her father is still a pretty good playmate, despite his age. 

Besides, he’s in the middle of a really good book, and he really only has about half an hour each night in which to read it, so this is a good opportunity for him.

It’s maybe fifteen minutes later when he hears a familiar voice beside him. “Hey, Mr. Martín. Fancy seein’ you here, huh?”

He’s smiling before he even lifts his gaze from his phone. “Hey, Kai,” he says. “I’ve told you before, you can call me Gabe. _‘Mr. Martín’_ makes me feel old.”

“Sorry, man,” Kai says with an easy grin. “I’m still used to callin’ all dads ‘mister,’ ya know? Respect for my elders an’ all that.” He huffs out a laugh and sits in the grass beside him. 

“I’m barely older than you,” Gabe mutters good-naturedly. He sets his phone screen-down on his leg and turns himself more fully toward Kai.

“Yeah, but you have a kid. That makes you a _mister.”_

“Oh my God,” Gabe says, burying his face in his hands. “You’re fired, I’ll find a new babysitter for Georgie.” 

“Uh-huh,” Kai says, unaffected. “You’re not _that_ lame.”

“I’m not _lame_ at all.”

“I know. That’s why we agreed to watch Georgie for ya.” Kai turns his attention to the playground, where Georgie and her friends seem to be engaged in some game of tag involving hiding behind the play equipment and making _pew pew_ noises at each other.

“Has she been doing okay, have you noticed?” Gabe asks. “I mean, has she seemed...I don’t know. Is she adjusting okay?”  
Kai looks back at him, peering over the tops of his sunglasses. He’s quiet for a moment, then he says, “I dunno. Haven’t noticed anything weird with her. She’s happy, I think. Why?”

Gabe shrugs, picking up his phone and fiddling with it. “I just, you know. I worry. I mean, back in Oregon, she had Damien and Jason, her grandparents, all her school friends.... Here, it’s just me. She’s starting over from scratch, and I just…” He shrugs again, setting his phone down. “I just don’t know if I’m giving her everything she needs.”

Kai hums, reaches over and puts a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “You’re doin’ fine,” he says. “Actually, I think you’re a pretty rad dad. Don’t worry so much. If Lola thought Georgie needed somethin’, she’d tell ya in a heartbeat.”

Gabe smiles at him, feeling a little misty-eyed. “Thanks, Kai. It means a lot.”

Kai grins back at him, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “‘S what I’m here for, dude.”

The rest of their time here passes peacefully, and Gabe spends most of it watching his daughter laugh and play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun with this chapter! It came out so cute, I think. I loved the family fluff and the little beginnings of crushes.... 💖
> 
> Thanks for reading!! As always, feel free to leave kudos or comments! I'd love to know what you think! ✨
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [@enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/)!


	3. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thank you as always to my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this chapter! It's a fun one. 😘🎃

**Wednesday, October 8.**

“Ya gotta do more’n just bench-presses an’ shit,” Madhavi says, adding another weight to her bar. “You’re gonna get too top-heavy an’ have to run around on your hands to get from place to place.”

Gabe rolls his eyes, setting his weights back down. “That’s ridiculous,” he says. “And I don’t _just_ do bench-presses!”

“Yeah, you do arm curls too.” Madhavi doesn’t seem impressed. “Look, just go run on a treadmill or somethin’ for a bit, you’ll feel great. An’ next time ya gotta go chasin’ after your daughter, you won’t get so outta breath.”

“Next time I gotta go get her,” he says, “I’ll _take the fucking car.”_

She laughs, squatting down to lift the bar onto her shoulders and straightening up. “Whatever ya say. There’s plenty’a other cases where you might need to run, y’know. Now come spot me! I’m tryin’a beat my max today.”

Gabe moves toward her, positioning himself to help her lift the bar off her shoulders if she needs it. “I’m not exactly tryin’ to win a triathlon or anything,” he tells her as she does a few reps. “I just like lifting weights. And it’s more fun to do that in a gym with other people than alone in my house while my daughter sleeps or somethin’.”

“Didn’t ask,” Madhavi says, voice tenser than normal. She straightens back up and shrugs the bar off her shoulders. She takes a few steadying breaths, then walks over to grab a couple more weights. “Just sayin’ you should focus on more than just your arms, beefcake.”

He rolls his eyes again, taking a weight from her and slipping it onto the bar. “Maybe,” he says. “When the leg exercises are half as fun as the arm exercises.”

“You’ve just got fuckin’ weird taste, man.” She moves over to slip the bar onto her shoulders again. “Anyway, how’s Georgie? Lola said she’s doin’ good.”

“Yeah, I think she’s settlin’ in pretty well. She’s got a group of friends she plays with at recess and the park, at least. Doesn’t seem to miss her dad or Jason too much.”

Madhavi grunts, unable to respond until she’s finished with her reps. Dropping the bar afterward, she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. “Get me my water, yeah?”

Gabe obediently passes her water bottle to her, doing a couple of stretches while he waits for her to finish drinking.

“Damn. One more set to do, gonna beat that fuckin’ max in no time.” Madhavi sets her bottle down and goes over to the weights again. “Anyway,” she calls over her shoulder, “glad the kid’s doin’ okay. Are _you_ doin’ okay?”

He frowns a little at her back. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She shrugs, a ten-pound weight in each hand. “Ya look kinda tired,” she says. “Been workin’ too hard?”

He shrugs back at her. “I mean, I work, like, fourteen hours a day. And still factor in time for my kid. I’d be surprised if I _didn’t_ look tired.”

Madhavi shoots a look at him, her lips curling up into a snarl, revealing a chipped tooth. “Don’t you have another chef?”

“Sure, Cole. He runs things when I need time off, helps out when I’m workin’.”

She sighs, sliding the weights on. “You work too hard,” she says. “You need to take more breaks.”

He knows she’s right, but it doesn’t really seem _possible_ for him to work less right now. Not when the diner’s still so new, not when he needs to make sure he’ll have enough money to support himself and Georgie in the coming months. Years. “I’ll try,” he says, not sure he’s being truthful or not. 

She grunts at him, and gets back into position. “You better,” she says, an undeniable threat in her tone. “I could kick your ass in a second _flat,_ an’ you _know_ it.”

Again, she’s right. He gives her a shaky smile and watches as she completes her reps. There must be _some_ way he can factor in more breaks for himself. Right?

**Friday, October 11.**

“Now remember, parent-teacher conferences are _next week,_ ” Stef tells the class, trying in vain to keep the kids’ attention from wandering. “I’ve already set up appointments with your parents and guardians, and there’s a reminder slip in your folders, but I’ll also be calling them to remind them of the time and date.”

Half the class is watching them with varying degrees of boredom, and the other half is shifting in their seats, looking at the clock or the door or whispering among themselves in what Stef’s sure the kids _think_ is a sneaky, quiet volume level. The end of the day is just a few short minutes away, but Stef can’t let chaos erupt in their classroom. Not yet.

They have one last hope to regain their attention.

Stef clears their throat. “And,” they begin, “the week after _that,_ on Saturday the 26th, we have a very special event comin’ up. Can anyone tell me what that is?”

No one answers. Those who’d been watching them stare blankly forward, and those who’d been ignoring them continue to do so. Stef stifles a sigh. It’s been a _long_ week. 

“We’re having the _Halloween festival_ that day!” they exclaim, and instantly gain the undivided attention of seventeen 9-year-olds. “Next week we’ll start getting everything ready for the festival, so be excited about that! And,” they continue, raising their voice to speak over the chorus of cheers, “we need more chaperones! So _please_ remember to give your Friday Folder to your parents, there is a _sign-up sheet_ in there!”

The bell rings then, and the room erupts into a flurry of motion and excited shrieks. Kids rush out of the room to join the flow of students heading out to the bus lanes or the pick-up zone.

Once the room has once again filled with silence, Stef sinks down into their chair, throwing their head back and closing their eyes. They whip their glasses off and pinch the bridge of their nose. _Dang_ was that a tough week. They’re _so_ looking forward to the weekend. Two solid days of sprawling across the couch. Maybe Marco’ll even give them one of his frankly _amazing_ head massages if they ask nicely.

Oh, wait! _Three_ solid days of lounging around doing nothing! _Heck_ yeah! Columbus may not have discovered America, but at least his dumb holiday gives Stef some extra time off from their job.

 _Ugh._ Wait, they still have to make sure everything’s ready for the three days of parent-teacher conferences next week. Stef groans, doesn’t move from their spot. They’ll get to it in a minute, but for now, they’re just gonna take a little break.

\-----

Today’s not as busy as usual, and while Gabe’s a little upset that he won’t get quite the same revenue as most Fridays, it also means that he has a little extra time to just hang out with Georgie, and there’s _no_ way he’s gonna look _that_ gift horse in the mouth.

Gabe gets her a snack while she sets up shop in her favorite out-of-the-way booth, and then he sits down across from her. 

“Any homework for the weekend?” he asks, taking the Friday folder she slides across the table to him.

Georgie shakes her head. “Not for me! Mx. Campbell gave homework to _you,_ though.” She looks smug as hell, and Gabe snorts, kicking his foot out to gently tap her knee.

“Mean to your poor old dad,” he says. “Alright, I’m guessin’ this ‘homework’ is in here, right?” He opens up the manila envelope and carefully pulls all the papers out. Last week’s spelling test--”Fourteen out of fifteen right, nice job, Georgie!”--and a few other assignments, which he’ll put into the binder he keeps all her school assignments in. That leaves two sheets of paper which must be his “homework:” a pale green slip reminding him that parent-teacher conferences are next week, with the time and date of his appointment handwritten at the bottom _(Friday, October 18, 1:15 PM)_ , and a pumpkin-orange paper with “Halloween Festival: Parent Volunteer Registration Form” in bold font across the top.

Gabe skims over the form, thinking. He’d known about the Halloween festival, of course, and had been planning on taking her to it for a couple of hours, but... well. He’d love to work the event, if he can. He used to work events at Georgie’s old school all the time--was on the PTA, in fact--and loved it. 

It’d be taking more time off work, but if Cole’s willing to handle it, well... why not?

He grins at Georgie across the table. “Wanna help your dad find a costume for the Halloween festival?”

Georgie lifts her arms in the air and hoots excitedly. He’ll take that as a resounding _yes._

He fills out the form.

**Friday, October 18.**

“Thanks for coming in,” Stef says as they show Barry and his mom to the door.

His mother hums, a distinctly-disapproving sound. “Of course. Thank you _so_ much for everything you’re doing.” She doesn’t sound very grateful, and had been an absolute _pain_ during the entire meeting. They’re glad to be rid of her.

Stef waves them off, making sure to appear as cheerful as possible, and then ducks back into the classroom with a sigh. They _hate_ parent-teacher conferences. So much complaining and arguing over their teaching method. _Ugh._ There’s a reason they decided to become an elementary-school teacher: kids are just so much easier to deal with on a regular basis.

Well, at least they only have three more meetings, and then they’re _done_ for a few more months.

Quickly, they neaten up their desk, putting away all of Barry’s things and grabbing the next kid’s. They glance at their schedule and smile. Georgie’s next! That means that not _only_ will they get to see one of their favorite kids (yes, they _know_ they’re not supposed to have favorites, but that’s never stopped them. They just make sure not to make it too obvious), but _also_ they’ll get to see her hot dad!

Or dads? Or dad and mom? Or _dads_ and mom? Stef’s still not sure what’s going on there. Maybe they’ll finally get an answer today.

They’ve just finished straightening up their desk when there’s a knock at their door. They look up to find Georgie barrelling toward them, a wide grin splitting her face, and in the doorway behind her, the gorgeous curly-haired guy from last month, smiling sheepishly at them.

“I hope we’re not late. Or early.” Mr. Martín says as Georgie greets Stef with a hug.

Stef glances up at the clock, which reads exactly 1:15. They smile at Mr. Martin. “No, no, you’re right on time,” they say. “Come on, let’s get started.”

They gently pry Georgie’s arms away from their legs and settle themself into their office chair, picking up a sheaf of papers and then setting it back down, feeling oddly flustered.

Mr. Martín sits down in one of the plastic chairs on the opposite side of the desk, and Georgie immediately climbs into his lap, rather than sitting in one of the other chairs. He doesn’t seem to mind, just wrapping an arm around her middle to keep her steady and turning his attention to Stef, his expression morphing into something serious, mouth a solid line and eyebrows drawn together.

Stef swallows. The sudden shift is disconcerting; they look down at the papers in front of them, and shuffle them around for a moment before selecting Georgie’s report card.

“Well,” they say, clearing their throat. “Um, well, Georgie is...” They pause. Professional. _Professional,_ Stef! “Georgie is doing very well in school. She applies herself well, participates in class, and even goes out of her way to help other students.”

Mr. Martín’s expression changes again, eyes lighting up and mouth widening into a grin.“Good, that’s great!” He holds up the hand not around his daughter’s waist, and she slaps her own against it in an ecstatic high-five. “Told ya everything would be okay,” he says to her.

Georgie beams at him, leaning back against him more fully, and this is all honestly _adorable._ If Stef’s not careful they’re gonna get all misty-eyed. 

Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but only a _little_ bit. It’s just nice to see the way parents interact with their kids, and it’s good to know that Georgie’s got a good, supportive parent at home.

They wait for the two of them to settle down, and then they continue, “She gets a little distracted in class sometimes, but it’s not too hard to get ‘er back on track.”

“Talking with Sarah?” Mr. Martín asks, an amused tilt to his eyebrow.

Stef laughs a little, lowering their gaze to the papers on their desk. They slip their glasses on, nodding. “Usually.”

“Class gets _boring_ ,” Georgie says defensively, and Stef glances up again, looking at her over the tops of their lenses. 

“You can talk to Sarah at recess,” Mr. Martín gently scolds. “When Mx. Campbell is teaching, you need to pay attention. And not distract your friends.”

She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t argue. 

“To be fair, it’s not usually when I’m actively _teaching,_ ” Stef says. “It’s mostly during silent reading time and that sort of thing. And like I said, it doesn’t take much convincin’ to get her back on task.”

“That’s good, at least.” He bounces his leg a little, still keeping hold of Georgie. “I... she’s been settling in well, then?” 

Stef nods. “As well as any of the other students,” they say, a bit confused. Then they remember-- “Oh! Right, this is her first year in the school district. Yeah, no, she’s doin’ great! Friendly, generally happy. Nothin’ to worry about.”

“See, Daddy. I _said_ everything’s good.” 

“Yeah. Good to know, kiddo.” Mr Martín squeezes her a little, and turns back to Stef. “I get a little worried,” he explains, a bit hesitant. “I mean, there’s an adjustment, y’know? Goin’ from a big family to just me an’ her, and a whole new _state-_ -California’s pretty different from Oregon, or at least the part we lived in--so I just wanna make sure she’s doin’ okay.”

They _very_ carefully don’t think of the implications of _“just me and her,”_ and nod emphatically. “I _totally_ get that,” they say. “But no, no--she’s doin’ great!”

He breathes out a little sigh. “Okay. Perfect! Then, um... is there anything else we need to talk about?” 

“Ooh!” Georgie brightens, sitting forward. “Can I show him the collage we made yesterday?”

“Yes, absolutely, you can show him anything you like. But first I gotta talk about one more thing with him.” Stef pulls out a copy of the Halloween festival agenda and hands it to Mr. Martín. “You signed up to be a parent volunteer, right?”

He nods, eyes skimming over the paper. “Yeah.”

“Do you have any experience with this sorta thing?”

He nods again, setting the paper down. “Yeah, I used to volunteer for all sorts of things at Georgie’s old school. So I just show up, what, an hour early to help set up?”

“Yeah, perfect! There’ll be people around to direct ya, so hopefully you won’t get lost.”

“Think I can handle that,” Mr. Martín says, and smiles again.

Stef smiles back, taking their glasses off and folding them on top of their papers. “Then I think we’re done here.” They look at Georgie, who seems restless in her dad’s lap. “Go ahead an’ show ‘im around, kiddo,” they say, and she’s off before they’ve even finished the sentence, jumping off his leg and grabbing him by the hand, yanking him across the room to the art gallery Stef’s set up.

Stef takes their time gathering up papers and setting up for the next meeting while surreptitiously keeping an eye on the two of them.

\-----

Mx. Campbell is actually pretty easy to talk to, when they aren’t glaring at him for being late to pick up his daughter. Most of Gabe’s attention is on Georgie, but he can’t help but admire the way their glasses sit perched on their nose as they look through papers, how they smile when Georgie asks questions or responds to Gabe.

And now he and Georgie are on the other side of the room, admiring the art created by the fourth-grade class.

“See? This is the one _I_ made,” Georgie says, pointing out a poster covered in bits of orange and blue paper. In the center of the page are four spoons, clearly cut from different pages in a magazine.

Gabe doesn’t understand it. He supposes that’s what makes it good art.

He squeezes Geogie’s shoulder. “It looks great, sweetheart,” he says. “Did you have fun making it?”

“Yeah! When I get to take it home I wanna put it in the living room.”

“Absolutely. Only the finest of art gets to hang in the living room, and this definitely counts.”

“It _better!_ Ooh, there’s Sarah’s!”

Gabe follows her gesture to a pink-purple-and-blue collage featuring a lot of smiley faces and butterflies. “Oh, that’s nice too,” he says. “Did you work on yours together?”

“Yeah!” Georgie grins up at him. “Mx. Campbell always lets us work on art projects together. I helped her cut out the pictures!” She beams proudly at him, and he runs his hand over her curls, pulling her in for a quick hug. Georgie is so _sweet,_ he can’t help but feel so _happy_ whenever he sees _her_ so happy. Moving here was definitely the right call, he thinks.

“Is this the Campbell classroom?” 

Gabe looks over to see a man standing in the doorway with a little girl peeking around his legs. Gabe hurriedly glances up at the clock and sees that it’s 1:32, which means he’s been hanging around too long and now he has to _leave_ before he ends up making things worse.

“Yes! Come sit down, hi!” Mx. Campbell appears in Gabe’s peripheral, looking frazzled. “Um, sorry, Mr. Martín, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Gabe feels his face heat up, and hopes no one can tell. “Right, right. Sorry for stayin’ so long. Thanks for everything. C’mon, Georgie, let’s get home.”

“Bye, Mx. Campbell!” she calls, slipping her hand into Gabe’s and tugging him toward the door. “Hi, Ava, bye, Ava!”

“Bye, Georgie,” the little girl says as they leave. “See you Monday.”

“See you Monday!” Georgie pauses at the end of the hallway, looking up at him. “Can we go to the park before we go home?”

And, well. How can Gabe say no to that?

**Saturday, October 26.**

“Marco,” Stef hisses under their breath, leaning off to the side and holding the box of prizes up to cover both their faces, “I _really_ appreciate you comin’ to help out, but you _can’t_ bring a freaking _snake_ onto school grounds!”

“Why not?” Marco asks, lifting his hand to put Angel directly in Stef’s face. “She’s a corn snake. ‘S not like I brought a rattlesnake or somethin’ in.”

Stef leans away so Angel can’t lick their nose with her little forked tongue. “‘Cause she’s a dang _snake,_ Marco! And she’s not even in a cage or anythin’, she’s just _on your hand!”_

“She wanted to come.”

“Marco…” Stef sighs. They should _really_ enforce the rules, but, well. They know Angel’s not dangerous or anything--she’s pretty docile, and even if Marco set her down somewhere (which he _wouldn’t)_ , she’d probably just climb up Marco’s leg and into his pocket or something--and they’re loathe to deny their brother _anything_ that makes him happy. Not after such a short time. 

“Just keep ‘er outta sight,” they say. “Don’t let anyone see ‘er, okay?”

Marco nods, clearly pleased, and gently tucks Angel into the pocket of his hoodie. “It’ll be our secret,” he says. 

“Right.” Stef lowers the box and continues with what they’d been doing, taking the prizes over to one of the game booths. There’s still a couple hours ‘til the festival starts and kids start arriving, but there’s still a lot to get set up.

Marco follows them, looking around at the half-finished booths. “Can I run the cotton candy thing?” he asks.

“No.”

“Why not?” 

“‘Cause Mrs. Pearson’s runnin’ it and if _you_ run it you’ll eat all the cotton candy. Also there’s a freaking _snake_ in your pocket and I don’t wanna hear about some 6-year-old gettin’ traumatized when they find a snake in their cotton candy.”

“I wouldn’t let ‘er get in the cotton candy,” Marco says, offended. “But otherwise, yeah. Fair.” He’s quiet for a bit while Stef hands the box over to the parent volunteer set to run the balloon-pop booth, and when they turn and walk back to get another prize box, Marco asks, “so what _can_ I do?”

Stef thinks while they walk. Marco’s never helped out with anything like this before, having had no opportunity to in high school and then having no desire to even consider it the last few years they’ve been working here. They try to think of things Marco’s good at, things he likes. Things that will be fun for him and still easy enough that he won’t have to worry about it.

“How about givin’ out stickers?” they suggest. They dart forward and open up a box, rummaging through it until they find a spool of Halloween-themed stickers. “Ya just tear one off an’ give it to every kid who’s wearin’ a costume!”

Marco takes the spool of stickers, looking dubiously at it. “What about kids who don’t have costumes?” he asks. “Don’t they get stickers?”

“I mean, it’s supposed to be a prize for comin’ in costume, like it says to on the flyer,” Stef says, grabbing up the prize box they’d come in for. “And, like, it’s a _kids’_ event, y’know? I kinda doubt there’s gonna be many kids _without_ costumes.”

Marco grunts out some sort of response and gingerly places the stickers in the same pocket as his snake. 

“And you _did_ bring a costume, right?” Stef asks, nudging a box toward him with their foot until he takes the hint and picks it up. “I mean, it’s a Halloween festival, ya gotta wear a costume.”

“No,” Marco says. “But Dante’s bringin’ me one later.”

“Ah.” Stef grits their teeth. Now’s not the time to lecture Marco; they’re in public, for one thing, and they don’t wanna discourage him from working, for another. “Right, okay. So when’s your boyfriend comin’?”

“Fiance,” Marco corrects, an edge to his tone. “Don’t worry, he’ll be here before we open.”

“Right,” Stef says again. They don’t say anything more after that, just taking the boxes to the booths that need them, Marco following behind just as silently.

And they know it’s a bad idea to go silent around Marco in situations like this, they _know_ it upsets him, and they _hate_ upsetting him, but Stef wasn’t expecting to have to deal with _Dante_ tonight. Crap. Are they gonna have to figure out a job for _him,_ too? Ugh. Maybe there’s some faraway corner of the gym they can send him off to, somewhere Stef won’t have to look at him and somewhere he can’t bother Marco.

Crap! How can they do that without making Marco mad or otherwise emotionally bad? They frickin’ _can’t!_ Darn it. Stef’s just gonna have to put on a brave face and act like an adult for a couple hours.

Easier said than done.

\-----

Gabe shows up about half an hour before the festival starts up, as he was instructed. When the president of the PTA had called, she’d told him that he’d just be acting as a chaperone, keeping kids from doing anything dangerous or wandering out of the gym without an adult to accompany them. Pretty simple stuff.

He’s got Georgie with him, of course. He’d been hoping to come alone and have Kai or Lola bring her in when it opened, but apparently tonight was their date night so they hadn’t been able to. No problem; he’ll just keep Georgie by his side so she doesn’t try and start the festival early.

Inside the gym, he looks around, unsure where to go. There’s plenty of people here, most of them in costume, putting up decorations or standing around talking in small groups. He’s sure he could just go up and ask someone who to report to, but he feels frozen, out of his depth.

And he _shouldn’t_ feel that way, because this is hardly the first time he’s worked at a school event! This is hardly the first time he’s had to work within a group! What’s going _on_ with him?

“Ooh, do you wanna see the decorations we made in class?” Georgie asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He takes a breath and looks down at her, beaming back up at him. He smiles and nods, most of the anxiety in his chest melting away like it was nothing.

“Definitely,” he says. “Let me just find out what I’m s’posed to be doing, okay Georgia Peach?”

She makes an over-exaggeratedly disgusted face at him, pretending she hates the nickname (but he knows she actually loves it, so it’s okay), and he ruffles her hair, takes her hand, and walks toward the nearest person who looks like they have any sort of authority.

“Excuse me,” he says politely to the woman with chin-length red hair and warm brown skin. She turns to him, arching an eyebrow. “Sorry, but I’m one of the parent volunteers? I’m, uh, supposed to chaperone? Uh, I was just wondering where I should be going?”

She looks him over, eyes trailing down, and he suddenly feels slobbish in his department store Dracula costume with his creased polyester cape and too-thin fake blood sloppily applied to the corners of his mouth. Compared with her elegant vampiress costume, complete with floor-length black gown and perfectly-pointed fangs standing out in sharp contrast with the bright red of her lips, he looks like something that just crawled out of a trash can. The fangs that came with his costume were too small to fit comfortably in his mouth, so he doesn’t even have _that._

He thinks she must be thinking all of these things in the short span between her once-over and her lips parting to reply, but she only says, “Chaperones report to Mr. Moore. Do you know who that is?”

He shakes his head, cheeks hot, but before he can say anything, Georgie tugs on his hand. “I know him!” she says. “He’s Mx. Campbell’s friend, he comes to our class sometimes to borrow pens.”

“Do you think you can point him out to me?” he asks, and Georgie nods frantically, pulling him away from the woman. He barely gets the chance to call “thank you” to the woman before she’s out of sight.

He hasn’t been in the gym before now, but it looks just the same as any other gym he’s been in, with stacks of bleachers pushed against the walls and a shiny wood floor. There’s a path winding through the gym, created with rugs and thick paper to keep people from scuffing the floors, and lining the path are several booths with games and food items set up at each. Everything’s covered with thick black fabric or long strands of spiderwebbing, with bats and skeletons and pumpkins and all sorts of Halloween imagery.

“Mr. Moore!” Georgie calls, and Gabe glances up. 

A tall man in a spiky leather jacket and a high, meticulously-spiked green mohawk grins. “Hey, kiddo!” he says. “Wow, lookit you! A bat, huh? _Very_ cool.”

“Thanks!” Georgie says proudly, letting go of Gabe’s hand to shake her arms and make her bat wings flutter. Damien and Jason had made it for her when she’d told them she wanted to be a vampire bat for Halloween, stitching felt wings onto the sleeves of a black sweater and big felt ears onto a headband. She looks adorable, but Gabe would never tell her that. He’d told her she looked badass before they’d left the house, and she’d beamed at him. It was _adorable._

“Didja need somethin’, kiddo?” Mr. Moore asks, and Georgie nods. 

“My daddy’s a chaperone!” she says, taking his hand again and holding it up so Mr. Moore can see. 

“Oh!” Mr. Moore turns his attention to Gabe, eyes lighting up. “Perfect, lemme take ya to the other parents! There’s not a ton for you to do ‘til the festival officially starts, but hopefully you can keep yourself amused ‘til then.”

Gabe and Georgie follow him.

\-----

Once the festival starts, Gabe loses track of Georgie pretty quick. That’s fine; he knows she won’t leave the gym without him, and there’s enough teachers and parents here that he trusts she can’t get into too much trouble by herself. She’s got a roll of quarters (snagged from the cash register before they’d left) for some food and those few games that cost money, and she’s got her clunky little phone if she _really_ needs him and can’t find him in the crowd.

Keeping kids in line is pretty easy, even when they aren’t _his_ kid. Plus, most of them are with their parents or older siblings, anyway, so he really doesn’t have to do much other than watch the doors and answer a couple of questions about where particular booths are.

It’s almost _boring,_ honestly, but all the people rushing around in costumes and playing games is still enough to keep him entertained.

“Hey,” someone nearby says in a monotone, and Gabe looks up to find someone a little taller than him, wearing a white toga-dress-thing with a bunch of rubber snakes on their head. He blinks.

“Uh, hi?” he says. “I mean, can I help you?”

“Here.” The person--dressed as Medusa, Gabe thinks--extends their hand, a little slip of paper pinched between their thumb and forefinger.

Gabe takes it, feeling more than a little confused, and looks down at it. There’s a glow-in-the-dark ghost sticker on it. He blinks again. “Uh.”

“I’m s’posed to give stickers to all the kids in costumes,” Medusa says. “Your Dracula costume’s pretty cool.”

“I’m 27,” Gabe says, at a loss for anything else.

Medusa shrugs. “Free sticker,” they say, and turn and walk away.

“Thanks?” Gabe says uncertainly, but he’s not sure if Medusa hears him or not. He looks down at the sticker and laughs a little under his breath, pocketing it. Georgie’ll like it. Maybe she’ll stick it on one of her school notebooks or something.

\-----

The festival’s been open for over an hour by the time Stef actually gets a chance to sit down for a minute.

They’ve been rushing around for _hours_ now, and it’s definitely nice to see all the happy kids laughing and playing games, and all the parents who seem to be having a pretty good time too, despite the lack of entertainment aimed at adults.

They’d lost track of their brother and his... boyfriend shortly after Dante’d arrived, and with all their running around making sure everyone’s got what they need and everyone’s having fun, they’ve barely managed to even say _hi_ to Simon and their other friends.

They really only get to sit down when Manami asks them to take over her pumpkin-painting booth for a bit while she and her wife run a quick errand. They don’t mind; guiding kids through arts and crafts is one of their favorite things to do, even if most of the kids are outside of their rather narrow age range.

Still, it’s a little bit of a relief when two more kids sit down to paint and Stef looks up to find two familiar faces, Sarah and Georgie. dressed as a witch and a bat respectively, grinning at them.

“Hey, kids!” they say, eagerly handing over paints and brushes. “Havin’ fun?”

“Yeah!” Georgie exclaims. “Look at all our _candy!”_ She holds up one of the little plastic treat bags they’d been giving away at the door, and, yeah. It looks pretty heavy.

“Georgie gave me some of hers,” Sarah says proudly, holding up a bag even _more_ stuffed. 

“Dang,” Stef says reverently. “You two better not eat all that at once, or you’ll get sick!”

“We won’t,” they chime, setting their bags down and picking up paintbrushes.

“We should paint pumpkins for _each other,”_ Sarah gasps, and Georgie nods her head enthusiastically. 

Stef absolutely _loves_ the generosity and enthusiasm so many kids have. It’s definitely one of the main reasons they decided to become a teacher. Happily, they guide the girls through the painting process, helping Georgie to paint a cat face and Sarah to paint a bat. 

The girls giggle a lot, and get almost as much paint on themselves as on the pumpkins, but by the end of it they’ve each got a pumpkin they’re proud of.

Stef waves them away and moves on to help the next couple of kids, but they see the girls trade pumpkins out of the corner of their eye, and they smile. Yeah, kids are pretty great.

\-----

The Halloween festival is only three hours long, ending at 6 PM, and it’s only a few minutes to the end when Stef comes across not _only_ their brother and his awful boyfriend, but also Georgie and her dad. 

The party’s dying down, with most of the attendees having headed home once they’d done the full circuit of activities, so some of the volunteers are starting to clean up the less prominent areas. Stef’s carrying a life-size skeleton to the storage room just off to one side of the gym when they see all four of them and stop in their tracks.

 _Marco’s got his frickin’_ snake _out!_

He’s got Angel on his hand, twined around his fingers, held out and showing her off to Georgie, who’s grinning. Stef feels like their heart’s gonna beat out of their chest, because he can’t have a _snake_ out on _school grounds!_ And in front of a _parent?!_ What the hell is he _thinking?_

Stef hefts the skeleton up onto their shoulder and freaking _books it_ over to the group.

“What the _heck_ are you doing?!” they hiss when they get close enough.

Georgie looks up. “Hi, Mx. Campbell!” she says excitedly. “You have a skeleton on your shoulder!”

“Hi, Georgie, yes I do,” Stef says distractedly. “Marco, put her away! You said you’d keep her hidden!”

“Was an accident,” Marco says with a shrug, not moving to put Angel away.

 _“What_ was an accident?” Stef asks, aware that their voice is sounding more and more shrill but not quite able to stop it.

“Sorry,” Mr. Martín says, and Stef looks up sharply to see him smiling sheepishly at them, the flaky and faded remains of what must be fake blood painting the corners of his mouth and his chin. He’s wearing a white dress shirt tucked into black slacks, with a black-and-red high-collared cape draped over his shoulders. His long hair is sweat-dampened and pulled back from his face with a red ribbon, save a few escaped curls framing his face.

Once again, Stef’s faced with how utterly _gorgeous_ this guy is, and they fall just short of having to physically _shake_ themself as they force themself to pay attention to the conversation.

“...went to hand her a sticker, but when he reached into his, er, toga, he pulled out a snake instead,” Mr. Martín’s saying. “And, well, Georgie was interested, so I asked if she could see it up close, and, well…” He shrugs, reaching up to fiddle with one of his curls in what’s obviously a nervous gesture.

Well. At least the parent Marco slipped up around isn’t a _snitch._

“Daddy, can _we_ get a snake?” Georgie asks, watching intently as Angel lazily slithers around Marco’s fingers.

“Uh,” says Mr. Martín, “well. Probably not. Not right now, anyway, I don’t think we have space to give a snake everything it needs to be happy.”

“Aw, but _please?_ I bet a little one like this doesn’t need a lotta space!” Georgie begs, looking pleadingly up at her father, who looks a little like a deer stuck in headlights, and Stef’s about to step in when their least favorite person speaks up.

“Even little bitty snakes like this precious girl take up a _lotta_ space,” Dante says, leaning out from the other side of Marco and sticking out a finger to pet the top of Angel’s head. “Get ‘em a too-small tank an’ they won’t be happy.”

Georgie sighs a little, but nods. “Well, I don’t want a _sad_ snake,” she says. Mr. Martín’s shoulders sag in what Stef can only assume is relief. “Can I see _your_ snake sometimes though? Can you bring ‘er to school? So I can play with ‘er sometimes?”

“Well,” says Marco, straightening up and handing Angel to his stupid boyfriend, “I don’t work here, but if Stef--I mean, Mx. Campbell--wants to borrow ‘er when you start learnin’ about reptiles, think you could see ‘er then.”

That’s actually something Stef was already _planning_ on doing, but they don’t say that. Instead, they just nod and make a little shooing motion at their brother with their free hand.“Okay, okay, good plan. Now take the snake and put her away! It’s time to clean up. Marco, you want a ride back home?”

“Nah,” Marco says, and Stef feels themself tense up, knowing what he’s going to say next. “Me an’ Dante’re goin’ on a date.”

“Okay,” Stef says as easily as they can. It must not come out exactly how they want it to, though, because they can see Mr. Martín shooting them a curious look, and Dante frowns at them, his hand moving to grip their brother’s arm.

“C’mon, Marco, we got stars an’ sh--uh, stuff to look at,” he says.

“Okay,” Marco agrees. He smiles at Georgie, and then makes a little _oh_ sound, rummaging around in his toga’s pocket for a moment. He pulls out his nearly-depleted spool of stickers and hands it to her. “You can have the rest,” he says. 

Georgie’s eyes widen. “Thanks!” she exclaims. “Daddy! Daddy, look at _all_ these stickers!”

Stef turns back to Marco and his awful boyfriend. “Comin’ home tonight?” they ask, keeping their eyes only on Marco.

Marco shrugs. “We’ll see where the night takes us,” he says. In a softer, gentler tone, he adds, “I’ll text if I’m stayin’ out, okay? Don’t worry.”

Stef relaxes slightly. They can’t be mad at Marco, even if they’re worried about him. He’s an adult. He’s doing better. He’ll be okay.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of ‘im,” Dante laughs, and Stef feels themself tense back up, sucking in a deep breath. They shoot a glare at him, but Dante’s not even looking at them; he’s just looking at their brother, with a glint of _something_ in his eye, something _possessive,_ something that scares Stef right to their core.

They don’t say anything. They _can’t_ say anything.

Marco and Dante leave a few minutes later.

\-----

“C’mon, my little Georgia Peach, it’s time for us to get home.” Gabe puts his hand on the small of Georgie’s back, turning to guide her toward the door. 

“Oh, hold on,” Mx. Campbell, who had just been talking to their brother and his boyfriend, turns back to him. He pauses, looking over at them.

They’re dressed in all black, slacks and a form-fitting button-up showing off their slender figure. Two pointy cat ears poke out of their firetruck-red hair, and they’ve got whiskers drawn on their cheeks. It’s a simple costume, but it suits them well, and once again Gabe feels a little underdressed.

“You need to sign out before you go,” Mx. Campbell says, setting aside the plastic skeleton they’d been carrying and reaching into their pants pocket for a folded piece of paper. They unfold it and hold it out to him, producing a pen from somewhere else. “Just write the time and sign here, Mr. Martín.”

“Gabe,” he says, laying the paper down on a nearby table and smoothing it out.

“Excuse me?” Mx. Campbell asks. Gabe looks up to find them blinking at him. 

He smiles, feeling a little embarrassed. “Sorry,” he says. “My name’s Gabriel. Gabe. People older than, like, _teenagers_ calling me _‘Mr. Mart_ _í_ _n’_ makes me feel old.” He signs the paper and hands it back to Mx. Campbell.

“I see.” They take it almost absently, folding it back up and putting it in their pocket without taking their eyes off of him.

He swallows, the feeling of awkwardness building up inside of him, and he’s just about to open his mouth and tell them that it’s _okay_ to call him Mr. Martín if using his first name makes them uncomfortable when they smile, and nod, and say, “Gabe. Then, you can call me Stef.”

And now it’s his turn to stare. Somehow, he wasn’t really expecting to be on a first-name basis with them, but, well. Stef is a nice name. It suits them. “Stef,” he says, smiling widely at them.

For a brief moment, the world’s narrowed down to just the two of them, smiling at each other from just a foot away, and there’s something about this that makes Gabe’s chest _ache,_ but he can’t quite put his finger on _why_ that is.

“Can _I_ call you Stef, too?” Georgie asks, breaking the moment.

“No, they’re your teacher, so you still have to call them Mx. Campbell,” Gabe tells her. “It’s respectful.”

Mx. Campbell- _-Stef-_ -laughs a little. “You can call me Stef if you see me off school grounds!” they say. “But I’ve gotta at least _pretend_ to be professional around here.”

And Gabe can’t help but chuckle a little at that, too, because he can’t really imagine the person standing in front of him as anything _but_ professional. After a moment, he puts his hand on Georgie’s shoulder. “We really _do_ have to get going,” he says to Stef, surprised to find that he feels a bit sorry about it. “I’ve gotta get some actual food in my kid before she turns into a sugar gremlin.”

“I’m _already_ a sugar gremlin!” Georgie exclaims, and makes a weird little noise halfway between a growl and an impish giggle. Gabe laughs.

“Okay, I’ve gotta get some actual food in you before you’re _permanently_ a sugar gremlin,” he amends, and Georgie nods, satisfied.

“Well, I’ll get outta your way, then,” Stef says, hefting the skeleton back onto their shoulder. “Bye, you two! See you on Monday, Georgie!”

“See you Monday!” she replies, hopping in place.

“And Gabe,” they say, smiling in this way that makes their eyes crinkle up at the corners, “thanks for all your help today! You’re welcome to help out with any future events!”

Gabe leaves the school feeling oddly high, replaying that smile over and over in his mind’s eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first name basis first name basis first name basis!! 😍
> 
> This is probably my favorite chapter so far, just because of the Halloween party! I actually have a lot I'd like to talk about, but I don't want to write a super long note here, so if anything in this chapter caught your attention, feel free to leave a comment about it!! 
> 
> I love getting comments (and kudos!) on my work; it reminds me that people like what I write!! 💖


	4. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello and welcome to chapter 4! i hope everyone's been doing well these last few weeks! 💖😊💖
> 
> big big big big BIG thank you as always to my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) and my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this! what would i do without the two of you, honestly?? ✨
> 
> please enjoy this chapter! it's been a while since i added a list of character names here, so if you need a refresher on who's who, check the end notes!

**Sunday, November 3.**

Gabe loses the extra hour of sleep he should have gotten by forgetting that daylight savings time is a thing and waking up at what he thinks is his usual time, after a night of fitful sleep. It’s not until he’s nearly done with the morning’s prep work that he looks at his phone and realizes it’s an hour earlier than he’d thought.

Needless to say, he’s not in a very good mood for the rest of the morning, especially when Cole and Shaw come in and loudly, excitedly talk about how _great_ their extra hour of sleep was, and how _wonderful_ it feels to wake up feeling well-rested and ready for the day.

He tries to keep his bad mood to himself, tries not to seem as put out as he really is. Because, damn it, he’s been running on nothing but fumes lately! He should have been allowed that extra hour to sleep in and recharge his battery!

He must not do a very good job of keeping his mood to himself, though, because Cole won’t stop shooting worried looks at him, and Shaw keeps telling him he should go and lay down for a while, or something.

But he _can’t_ lay down, because he has a business to run and a daughter to provide for. It’s not fair, not really, but this was all his decision. He made the choice to come here and build a business from the ground up. He has to deal with all the problems that come with it.

“Lunch break,” Shaw tells him around noon. Gabe shoots aer a look. 

“It’s _rush hour,”_ he says, a little snippy. “I don’t need a break.”

“You’re wearing yourself out, darling,” ae says, picking up the tray of food Gabe’s just set in the window. “And your daughter looks like she needs something to do.”

Gabe bites his lip. Shaw and Cole are always pressuring him into taking breaks by using his daughter against him. He’s ashamed to admit how often it works.

“Let me help Cole get caught up,” he says, sighing and turning away. “And make sure Bunny’s not overworked!”

“Will do, bossaroo!” Shaw sing-songs, skating off to deliver the food to whoever’d ordered it.

Gabe sighs again, grabbing the next ticket on the carousel. His limbs feel heavy, and his head’s sort of aching, but he’s not going to let that stop him.

He’s got a job to do.

\-----

Sundays were never one of Stef’s favorite days, but more recently they’ve come to really enjoy them. 

The last year or so of high school, and all through college, and the last few years, too, Sundays were bad days, days spent watching their brother, forcing him to eat and drink, begging him to do something, _anything._

Now, Stef sits on the couch with Marco and they play video games together. Every Sunday afternoon! It’s amazing. Stef’s never loved any activity more than they love video games with their little brother.

Right now, Marco’s just sort of watching Stef play, sitting cross-legged on the couch with his cat curled up in his lap, purring loudly, and his head resting on Stef’s shoulder.

It’s wonderful. 

“You forgot to pick up the egg,” Marco tells them, gesturing at the screen. “He won’t give ya the next quest unless ya bring ‘im all the eggs.”

“Shoot, you’re right.” Stef wheels their character around and makes her sprint, ducking behind a bush to pick up the half-hidden egg. “Okay, sweet! Think I got everything now, huh?”

Marco hums an affirmative, reaching down to pet Tomato the cat. Tomato’s purrs increase in strength. 

Stef finishes up the quest and collects the reward, and then quickly saves the game. “Okay,” they say. “Think we need a lunch break, huh? How ya feelin’, lil’ bro?”

Marco sucks in a breath, closing his eyes. Stef doesn’t rush him. 

After a moment, he opens his eyes again. “I could eat,” he says slowly, “but I don’t think I can cook.”

“Okay.” Stef nods. “Do you wanna eat somethin’ simple from the kitchen or go out? Or order in?”

“Simple’s fine,” he says. “Uh. Ramen?”

Stef arches an eyebrow at him. “Are you askin’ for ramen ‘cause you _want_ ramen, or ‘cause you don’t wanna be a bother?”

Marco sighs. “The second,” he quietly admits.

“Well, you’re never a bother. You know that.” Stef kisses their brother’s temple, and then scoots out from under him and stands. “Whaddaya really want, then? I’m gonna make me a grilled cheese. An’ some tomato soup. You want some’a that?”

Marco’s mouth twitches. “I don’t usually like fur in my soup, so no thanks.” He runs his hand over Tomato’s back, and Stef rolls their eyes. 

“Yeah, okay, smart aleck. Two grilled cheeses with tomato soup, comin’ up!”

Marco smiles at them, his hesitant little half-smile, and Stef beams back before heading into the kitchen. It’s not Marco’s best day today; he’s lacking energy and motivation, getting stuck on bad thought patterns, _but_ he’s still sitting in the living room with his cat in his lap, making conversation with Stef, _telling_ them that he’s not having a great day. It’s not his best day, but it’s far from his worst day, and Stef’s not gonna worry about it.

They’ve put the soup on the stove to heat up (it’s canned soup; Stef’s no chef), and they’re just about to start Marco’s sandwich when they get a trilling notification sound. They glance at their phone on the kitchen counter and see a text from Shaw waiting for them. Eagerly, they unlock their phone and read it.

> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: _“hey steffie baby you busy tonight?”_
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“me and marco are havinr sibeling bonding day!”_
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“why what’s up babe?”_
> 
> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: _“you two NEED to come see me at work!! it’s been FOUR MONTHS since I started here and you haven’t been to see me ONCE! i feel so abandoned_ 😥”

Stef winces. Dang, has it really been that long? Guilt sits heavy in the pit of their stomach, but it doesn’t last long. They shake off the feeling and send a message back.

> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“aw shoot sorry babe yeah we’ll come by sometitmg soon not tonight cuz wewe got plans but maybe like thigs weekend?”_

They glance over and realize that the soup is almost done and they haven’t even started the sandwiches yet. They quickly finish buttering the bread, ignoring the subsequent notifications until the sandwiches are frying in the pan. 

> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: _“saturday will be wonderful! just make sure it’s before 2 so we can see each other_ 😘”
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: _“roger rogere shaw babey”_
> 
> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: “💖💖💖💖💖”

Stef tucks their phone into their pocket and turns their attention back to the sandwiches, feeling light and happy. It’s a good day, and it’s gonna be a great weekend.

**Saturday, November 9.**

Stef’s not in a great mood when they show up at the Jet Star Diner. They _would_ have been in a great mood if their little brother hadn’t decided at the last minute to go off to who-knows-where with his boyfriend. But no, of course that little weasel just _had_ to show up and whisk Marco off on a date.

Stupid.

So now Stef’s going to a restaurant to eat lunch all alone. How sad is that? And, well, sure. They _could’ve_ invited one of their friends to come with them; Simon probably could’ve come, or Manami, but _Dante_ hadn’t exactly left them with enough time to invite anyone, had he?

Ugh. Whatever. Maybe Shaw’ll take a break and eat with Stef. They _are_ here to see aer, after all. As long as aer boss isn’t an asshole, it should be fine, right?

Stef parks their Trans Am and locks it behind them, then pushes through the front door of the diner.

It’s not too busy inside, but there’s the low murmur of people talking, the sound of dishes and utensils clanging around in the kitchen. It seems like a nice place, and whatever’s cooking in the back _definitely_ smells inviting.

They hesitate in the doorway for a moment, unsure of where to sit. The booths look inviting, but they’re meant for two to four people, not someone dining alone. The tables look fine, too, but they’re out in the middle of the room, and all unoccupied; Stef would stand out too much. That means they’re going to have to sit at the counter.

They make their way up to the front and settle themself on one of the stools at the counter. There’s a little window they can look through and see into the kitchen, but they can’t see anyone inside from here. 

“Steffie baby!” Shaw squeals behind them, and Stef grins, turning on the stool to face aer.

“Shaw! Good grief, it’s been so _long._ You’re taller’n the last time I saw ya!” 

Shaw rolls aer eyes, beaming at them. “You saw me _last week,”_ ae says. “It’s not like it’s been _years.”_ Ae rolls up to the counter and slides a menu to them. 

Stef raises an eyebrow. “Your boss know you’re wearin’ those skates on the job?” Stef’s not too surprised by this; Shaw’s always loved skating, ever since ae was a kid. Ae’s the captain of one of the local roller derby teams _(The Motorbabies,_ they’re called) and can’t seem to stay off aer skates. Ae’s got at least half a dozen pair.

“Of _course_ he knows,” Shaw scoffs, cocking aer hip and laying aer hand on it. “He told me as long’s I don’t get hurt or hurt anyone else, I can wear ‘em!” Ae does a quick spin. “And we all know I only do my hurtin’ at the rink.”

Stef snorts, picking up the menu. “Oh yeah, I know _all_ about that.” Stef had done roller derby with Shaw for exactly half a season and was more than glad to leave it behind. “Anyway, what’s good here?”

“Oh, the whole menu’s pretty great,” Shaw says, leaning in close to lay a single perfectly-manicured fingertip on the menu. “If you want a burger, though, you should wait ‘til the boss-man gets back. Nothin’ against Cole, a’course, but Gabey-baby’s just got a _way_ with ‘em, y’know?” 

“Oh, okay.” Stef doesn’t really know if they want a burger, but they have to admit that the way Shaw’s talking up aer boss makes it sound pretty good. “He gonna be back soon?”

Shaw hums an affirmative. “Had to force ‘im into takin’ a break! He an’ his daughter should be back soon! Ooh, you know, I think his daughter’s in your class!”

And now Stef’s _really_ interested, and also a little worried. “Oh?” they ask. “Really? Why didn’t ya tell me before you worked for one’a my kids’ parents?!”

Ae shrugs. “Slipped my mind,” ae says with a shrug. “Ya woulda found out sooner if you’d come to see me when I _first_ asked ya to.” Ae winks, and Stef knows they’re being teased.

“Yeah, okay, okay. Sorry, Shaw. Now, who is it?”

Shaw hums again, a thinking sound. “Oh, I don’t know,” ae says. “But you’ll see soon enough! Now, a burger? Or somethin’ else?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take a burger.” They close the menu and hand it back to Shaw. “You’re a menace.”

“And you love me for it!” Shaw ducks and gives their cheek a quick kiss. “I’ll put the order in an’ let Cole know to wait for the boss-man! Whaddaya want to drink? Coke?”

“Coke’s good.” They wave aer off, nervousness bubbling up in them again. It’s not like they’ve _never_ seen parents outside of the classroom--this town’s not tiny, but it’s not huge, either--but still. They like to put their best foot forward and at least _look_ professional for the parents! They glance down at themself; they’re wearing a pink sequin top and black skinny jeans. Not the worst weekend attire they own, but definitely not fourth grade teacher-appropriate.

Still, it seems like they’re going to have to risk their professional face for this. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s still pretty early in the school year, so hopefully this won’t be setting a precedent for the rest of the year.

Shaw comes gliding back a minute or two later with Stef’s coke in hand, throwing them a wink and a kiss before skating over to another table. Stef pulls out their phone while they wait.

> **TO:** baby bro: _“what’s up frricker hope your’er havin a goos time with dante bc i’m having a BLAST wieth shaw!!!”_
> 
> **FROM:** baby bro: _“we’re going to the river to look for cool rocks”_

Stef frowns down at their phone. Cool rocks? What kind of date is _that?_ It sounds like the kind of “date” two kids would have! Well... whatever. Whatever makes Marco happy. And doesn’t get him hurt. ...Dante better not hurt him.

The door chimes while Stef’s thinking of how to reply to their brother, but Stef doesn’t pay it any mind until they hear a voice they recognize.

“I wanna watch a movie tonight!” says Georgie from somewhere behind Stef. They set their phone down and glance over their shoulder, spotting Georgie clutching her father’s hand. 

They can’t see Mr. Martín’s--Gabe’s, they correct themself, remembering the conversation a couple of weeks prior-- _Gabe’s_ face from this angle, but they see his head tilt down toward her. “Sure, Georgie,” he says. “Whaddaya wanna watch?”

“Shrek!” 

Gabe sighs loudly. “Are you sure you wanna watch that one _again?”_

“Yeah! It’s my favorite--oh! Hi Mx. Campbell!”

Stef blinks, having spaced out for a moment and not realized how close Georgie had gotten. They smile warmly at her. “Hi, Georgie!” they say. “Fancy seein’ you off school grounds!”

“I like your shirt,” she says. “Sarah has one like that, but hers is blue!”

Stef nods. “Blue is a good color.” They carefully don’t look at Gabe. Judgey eyes aren’t what they wanna deal with right now. So, is _Gabe_ the one who owns this diner?! Or is it just a really weird coincidence, and Stef’s gonna bump into _two_ parents today? Gosh, they hope not. 

“Welcome,” Gabe says, and Stef glances up to see him smiling warmly at them. “I haven’t seen you in here before! Oh, have you been helped?”

Stef blinks again, unsure of what to say. They gently shake their glass of coke at him in lieu of words, and they’re surprised to see his cheeks darken with a blush. A _blush!_

“Right, right,” he says. “Sorry. Shoulda noticed. Uh.” He clears his throat, and Stef’s torn between feeling a little bad for embarrassing him and feeling a little _giddy_ that they made him _blush!_

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” they say. “I’m just waitin’ for the owner to get back. Shaw says he makes the _best_ burgers.” they arch an eyebrow at him, half-teasing. “I guess that’d be you?”

“Oh. Oh, uh, yeah! Yes! I’m the owner.” Gabe flushes again, seeming pleased. “So, um, I take it you know Shaw?”

“Yeah, ae an’ I go way back.” Stef feels themself leaning toward Gabe, and straightens up. “Figured I’d come visit aer at work.”

“Oh, okay!” Gabe smiles then, a bright, happy grin. “Well, any friend of Shaw’s is a friend of mine. Um. I better go get started on your burger.” He turns to Georgie. “Are you okay to stay in the diner for a bit? Or should we give Lola a call?”

Stef’s attention and interest never really left, but they find them being drawn back to Gabe anyway. Who’s Lola? A friend? A girlfriend? 

Georgie shakes her head. “I wanna stay here ‘til she comes! I gotta pick out what comics to take!” She waves to Stef. “Bye, Mx. Campbell!” She pauses a moment watching them, then hurries off to a booth toward the back of the room. 

Stef waves back, “Bye, Georgie!” they call. “Nice to see you!” They turn back to Gabe just in time to see him disappearing into the kitchen. _Well._ That’s fine, then.

They go back to their soda and wait for entertainment in the form of either food or Shaw to arrive.

\-----

Somehow, Gabe hadn’t been expecting to see Stef here.

Well, really, why _would_ he expect it? It’s not like his diner is the only place to eat in town; far from it, in fact. And, sure, he’s talked to Stef before--is on a first-name basis with his daughter’s teacher--but that’s it. He’s had more conversations with previous teachers of Georgie’s and never _once_ saw them off school grounds.

So, needless to say, he feels a little rattled seeing Stef sitting at the counter that day. He feels even _more_ rattled when they specifically ask _him_ to make them a burger. That’s just... unexpected.

He washes his hands once he gets into the kitchen, puts on his apron and his hairnet, washes his hands again, and then puts on his gloves. At least back here in the kitchen, he doesn’t have to think too hard about anything.

The ticket Shaw passes to him just calls for a regular hamburger, nothing fancy, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be special.

He hopes Stef likes it. It’s important to him that _everyone_ likes the food he makes for them, but somehow it’s _more_ important that Stef likes this burger. 

It’s a very important burger. 

Cole nods to him as he cooks. “I’ll start a batch of fries,” he says. “Shaw’s friend, right? Ae told me it was _‘extremely important’_ that they like the food.” He laughs a little under his breath, plating whatever he’d been working on and sliding it through the window for Shaw to collect. “How was your break?”

“It was nice,” Gabe says as he cooks. “Georgie kept me on my toes, so I don’t know if it was _relaxing,_ but it was nice to get out of the kitchen.” He knows it’s hard to get him out of the kitchen, knows his staff is constantly trying to shoo him out. He feels a little bad about that, but he keeps telling himself he’ll have more time for breaks once the business is fully in the black.

“When’s your next day off?” Cole asks, starting the fries. “Monday, right?”

“Right.” Monday’s a federal holiday, so Georgie won’t be in school. Gabe thought it would be a good day for the two of them to do something together. “Why?”

Cole shrugs. “Maybe you can relax on Monday, then. Take a nap. Sleep in. Do somethin’ with Georgie that won’t make you tear your hair out.”

Gabe rolls his eyes. “Nothing I do with Georgie makes me wanna _tear my hair out,”_ he says. “But, yeah. Monday will be nice.” He flips the burger, moves over to prepare the rest of Stef’s meal. “...You’ll call me if you need anything, right? If we’re really busy and you can’t handle it all?”

“I’ll call,” Cole promises. “But it’ll be _fine.”_ He pulls up the basket of fries. “Should I plate these?”

“Hang on, let me--” Gabe quickly assembles Stef’s burger and plates it, then slides it over for Cole to add the fries. “Okay,” he says. “Think it’s done.” And Stef’s the only one in the dining room who hasn’t received their order yet, so there’s nothing else to cook at the moment.

He steps toward the window to set the plate out, but then he hesitates. No. No, he shouldn’t... right? Nah, it’d be too weird. Just let Shaw do aer job. But... well, it wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Cole sighs behind him, carrying a pile of dishes over to teh sink. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

Gabe bites his lip. “I... think I’ll take care of this,” he says. “I mean, I’ll take it out there, and I’m gonna... uh, man the cash register. For a bit.”

Cole hums interestedly. “Man the cash register? The cash register at the counter? I see.” He snorts out a little laugh.

Gabe feels his face heat up. “And just what are you implying?” he asks, as casually as he can.

Cole shoots him a look, wiping his hands on his apron. “You’re still pretty new to the community,” he says. “Your social circle’s pretty much limited to your staff, your daughter’s babysitters, and your gym buddy. I’m not one to stop ya from addin’ another person to the list.” He smiles, and there’s a sly look in his eyes that Gabe’s going to steadfastly ignore. “Go hang out, things’ll be slow for an hour or so, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Gabe says, a light, happy something blooming in his chest. “Thanks, Cole. I’ll be _right_ back!”

“Take your time,” Cole says, waving him off and turning back to his work.

Gabe smiles to himself as he exits the kitchen, plate in hand.

\-----

“Glad Marco’s been doin’ so much better,” Shaw says, resting aer elbow on the counter, leaning aer cheek into the palm of aer hand while ae talks to Stef. “Saw his fiance the other day! Spunky li’l guy. Think he’d be interested in joinin’ derby? Could always use someone with that kinda energy on the team, and he’s got that hand-thing, could really add to the intimidation factor, ya know, and--”

“I don’t trust his boyfriend,” Stef blurts out, and then winces. It’s one thing to talk about their brother’s boyfriend to their _brother,_ but it feels like another thing entirely to talk about him to anyone else. Even if that person is Stef’s best-friend-since-preschool.

Shaw tilts aer head a little, studying them. “...What’s wrong with Dante?” ae asks slowly. “And aren’t they engaged?”

Stef grinds their teeth together, spreads their fingers out against the countertop. “I just--I don’t _trust_ him,” they say again, and they know that isn’t a proper response, know that won’t be enough for Shaw. “I mean--!”

“Order up!” calls the cheerful voice of none other than Gabe Martín. Stef whips their head toward him, heart racing and feeling guiltily glad to not have to talk to Shaw about this particular subject anymore. “Oh, sorry,” Gabe says, carefully setting a plate of what looks like an absolutely _delicious_ burger and fries down in front of them, “did I interrupt you two?”

“No,” Stef says, at the same time that Shaw says “Only a little.” The two glance at each other, and Shaw’s eyes are telling Stef that they’re _definitely_ going to be continuing this conversation later. Stef stifles a sigh.

“Reduced yourself to waitstaff, hmm, Mr. Boss-Man?” Shaw asks with a cheeky grin. 

Gabe laughs a little, smiling sheepishly. “I don’t know about _‘reduced,’_ ” he says, “but, well, there’s not much to do in the kitchen right now, and…” he shrugs. “Well, I figured no one would mind if I did a little work out here.”

Stef looks down at their burger. It really _does_ look good--the bun’s a little toasted, the patty looks thick and juicy, and there’s enough toppings to fill it out nicely. “I’m about to eat the _heck_ outta this burger,” they say, pointing emphatically at it.

They’re pretty pleased with themself when Shaw snorts and Gabe laughs. “Have at it,” he says. “I’ll just, uh, be over here. At the cash register.” He steps about three feet to the right and stops in front of the cash register.

Shaw leans in close to Stef, speaking in a whisper clearly meant for Gabe’s ears as well. “The best place to watch you try his burger for the first time!”

Stef laughs, turning a teasing eye to Gabe. “That true?” they ask, picking the burger up. 

Gabe’s flushed a little, but he’s smiling, and he shrugs. “I mean, I can’t really deny it. I’ll take all the validation I can get.”

They laugh again and take a bite, closing their mouth as they chew to really get a good idea of the flavor. “Oh,” they say after a moment, “ohhh my gosh!” They swallow and beam at Gabe. “This is freaking _good!_ ” And it really is! They’re not sure exactly what _makes_ it so good, but it’s, well… It’s freaking _good!_

Gabe’s cheeks have gone even darker, his smile widening. Stef’s heart does a funny, flippy thing in their chest, and they quickly take another bite of their meal.

“Thanks,” he says. “I’ve been working for probably a decade to perfect that.”

Stef can’t really reply, because their mouth’s full of food, but they nod vigorously.

Shaw goes off to drop off a check to a table then, and Gabe busies himself with something behind the counter, so Stef’s more or less left alone to eat. It’s not too bad; they still wish they hadn’t come in here _alone,_ but at least the food’s good, and Shaw’s around, and Gabe’s not too bad.

Yeah. It’s not too bad at all, honestly.

  
  


**Monday, November 11.**

“Daddy! Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, _daddy!”_

Gabe’s awoken by a 65-pound girl slamming into his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs and smashing his head against the headboard. He recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around Georgie and pulling her under the covers. “And just what do you think _you’re_ doing, you little rascal?” he asks, tugging lightly on one of her curls.

She giggles, burrowing further under the blankets and tugging the covers around herself. The edge of the blanket comes up behind Gabe, exposing his back to the November chill, and he quickly tugs it back down. “No school today,” Georgie says with a grin. “No _work_ today. Today is a day for just _you_ and _me_ and we’re going to have the _best_ time. The _most_ fun.” She nods then, trying to school her expression into something more serious and utterly failing at it.

He laughs, twisting in the bed so he can see her without getting a crick in his neck. “Oh?” he asks teasingly, “And what, exactly, are our plans for today? What could _possibly_ be the _most_ fun, my little Georgia peach?”

Georgie giggles again, snuggling close to him, and he thinks his heart might burst with love and affection for his daughter. “We’re gonna go an’ get _ice cream,_ an’ go see a _movie,_ an’ go to the _library,_ an’ then we’re gonna come home an’ you’re gonna show me how to make _cookies!”_ she tells him.

It’s a list of things they’d been wanting to do together since moving here, things they hadn’t really had time to do--at least, not all at once, and not without rushing through it--since their days off hadn’t matched up until now. Gabe and Georgie had talked over their plans last night, and agreed that this was the best course of action.

He nods. “That _does_ sound like the _most fun_ and the _best time,_ ” he says. As long as everything’s okay at the diner and he doesn’t have to rush in to help out, they’re going to have a great day.

“When are we gonna go?” Georgie asks, nuzzling her cold nose against the skin of his arm.

He leans out from under the blankets and peers at the digital clock beside his bed, squinting at the blue numbers. “It’s only, like, 7:30, kid,” he says. “We can’t go out for a few hours yet.”

“Aw.” Georgie pouts at him. 

He grins at her, bracing himself and pulling the blankets off the both of them in one swift movement. She squeals, curling in on herself and holding tightly to his arm. “Daddy!” she shrieks. “Too _cold_ for that!”

He laughs again, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, rolling back and forth on the bed. “Well, we gotta get up if you wanna go out today!” he says. “We gotta get breakfast in ya, and maybe do somethin’ else before we leave. Whaddaya say?”

She tilts her head back to look at him, beaming. “Okay, okay!” she giggles. “But can I wear your robe?”

“My robe?” he asks with mock shock. “Whyever would you want _my_ robe?”

“‘Cause it’s _way_ warmer than mine, and it’s cold as _ice_ in here!” She shivers dramatically, teeth chattering and all.

“But if I give you _my_ robe,” he says, shifting and sitting up, planting his bare feet on the icy floor and settling her in his lap, “then how will _I_ stay warm?”

She studies him for a moment, then leans over and picks the comforter off the ground. She presents it to him with mock sincerity. “Wrap this around yourself,” she tells him. 

He takes it, and, careful not to drop her on the floor, drapes the blanket around his shoulders. “Well, whaddaya know,” he says. “It’s _super_ warm under this thing.”

Georgie giggles again, sliding off his lap and running over to the chair where his robe is draped. She grabs it and pulls it on. It’s much too big for her, so she pushes the sleeves up, rolling them so they’re nearly doubled back on themselves, but the hem still trails behind her as she moves to exit the room. “Come on, daddy,”she calls over her shoulder. “Breakfast time!”

Gabe laughs as he follows her out into the hallway, keeping the blanket tucked around himself.

\-----

After a hearty breakfast of microwave oatmeal (look, he cooks for a living, alright? Sometimes he just can’t be bothered to cook for _himself,_ and it’s not like his daughter really minds dinosaur egg oatmeal) and a couple of hours of early-morning cartoons, the two make their way into the car and head downtown.

The library is the first place on the agenda, and Gabe’s pleased to see that it’s not too crowded at all today. Well, he tells himself, that’s because it’s only ten AM on a Monday. Of course there’s not gonna be anyone here until later.

He parks his car, and then goes and opens the back door for Georgie, picking up the little canvas bag of books off the floorboard as he does so. “Ready, kiddo?” he asks, shutting the door behind her as she hops out onto the sidewalk.

Georgie nods, kicking excitedly at a little pile of orange and brown leaves. “I’m gonna get _so many_ comics!” she says. “And, and, and--! And Sarah says there’s a really good book series that she likes, an’ she thinks I’d like it too, so I’m gonna try an’ find it here! Is that okay, daddy? Huh?”

“Well, sure,” Gabe says, as he and Georgie make their way along the sidewalk and up the little steps to the front doors. “I don’t have a problem with you checking out books, especially if Sarah’s the one recommending them.” Georgie tends to prefer comics to literary books, which is fine with him, honestly, but the school system usually demands more intense reading schedules, so if Georgie wants to read an _“actual”_ book, he’s not going to say no. And Sarah’s a good kid who seems to have pretty good morals, so he’s not really worried about the contents of the books. 

Gabe reaches out to open the library doors, but, to his surprise, they don’t budge. He blinks, and tries again, but they still don’t open. “Huh,” he says. “That’s weird.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at the time, but it’s after ten. The little piece of paper taped to the inside of the glass in the door clearly states that the library opens at ten AM. ...And that it’s closed on national holidays.

“Shit,” he says, leaning his forehead against the glass--and then immediately straightening up and pointing at Georgie. “Don’t repeat that word, please. That’s a grown-up word.”

She rolls her eyes. “I _know,_ daddy,” she says. “Is the library closed?”

“Yeah,” he says, biting his lip. “Sorry, kiddo. I forgot the library’d be closed, too." He steps away from the door, hoping no one’s seen him make this horrible error. “Well, we can still return our books, at least. Pick up some new ones after school tomorrow, maybe.”

Georgie follows after him, slipping her hand into his. “It’s okay, daddy,” she says. “I forgot, too. It’s a... federal holiday? A federal holiday. None of the places that get money from the federals are open today. Right?”

He smiles despite himself. “None of the places that get money from the _government,’_ he gently corrects. “You’re right, thank you Georgie. Can you tell me what other places are gonna be closed?” He leads her around to the other side of the building, where the book deposit box is, and starts feeding books from their bag into it.

“Um,” Georgie sticks her tongue out and scrunches her face up as she thinks, holding out her hand and counting on her fingers. “The schools,” she says, “the library, the... banks. All the government buildings. Like the... the place where you can get food money. And the courthouse. The stores and the restaurants and the movie theater are still open though, right?!”

He hands her the empty bag and leads her back to the car. “The theater and the ice cream shop will still be open,” he promises. “And the grocery store, so we can get ingredients for our project later.”

“Yeah!” She throws her arms into the air and does a little dance on the sidewalk, then hops back into the car.

Gabe’s a little slower getting into the driver’s seat. He’s sort of annoyed at himself for forgetting something like this, but... really, it’s not that big of a deal. Georgie doesn’t seem _too_ disappointed, even though he really wanted to get those books for her….

“Tell me about those books Sarah recommended to you,” he says as they drive away.

“Ooh, Sarah says they’re about a kid who has the power to fly, and that means….”

\-----

“Are you sure we really need _this_ much coffee?” Stef asks, peering into the cart without bothering to mask their disgust.

Marco huffs, pushing the cart forward. “Always need coffee,” he says, reaching up to take _another_ freaking canister off the shelf. 

“Yeah, okay, but _seriously,_ you’re the only one who drinks it an’ even _you_ can’t drink _that_ much!” They swat his hand away from the weird gourmet coffee blend or whatever it is.

He ignores them and grabs a different can of the same brand, dropping it in the cart with the other three cans. “It’s fine,” he says. “I wanna try some different stuff. An’ don’t worry,” he adds, rolling his eyes, “I’m not relyin’ on your teacher’s salary for this. I’m buyin’ it with my own paycheck.”

“Oh," Stef says, looking up at their brother. “You got paid recently?”

Marco nods, pushing the cart forward and finally- _-finally!-_ -exiting the coffee aisle. “Not a lot,” he says, “but more’n I have been. It wasn’t a huge job, just had to do some back end development for some lil’... business thing.” He shrugs. “Only took a few hours.”

Stef beams at him. “That’s great! You plannin’ on doin’ that more often, then?” Marco’s a freelance software and web developer, but he’s only ever been able to actually do jobs maybe a couple times a year, when he’s feeling his best. It’s always been a shame, because Marco’s, like, _insanely_ talented, and he’s always loved coding--ever since, like, middle school, when he won a junior robotics tournament. 

Depression robbed him of a lot, and if Stef has anything to say about it, that’ll all be in the past.

Marco shrugs again. “I dunno, maybe. Probably.” He pauses, looking up at the sign hanging above the next aisle and turning the cart down it. “I mean, I had fun. ‘S nice, y’know. To do somethin’ again.”

Stef opens their mouth to reply--they don’t really know what they’re gonna say, probably something sappy--but they’re interrupted by a familiar voice saying, “Hey! You’re the snake-man!”

And, sure enough, there’s Georgie and her too-hot-to-be-true dad, pushing a cart of their own down the grocery store aisle.

“Hi,” Marco says, lifting one hand in a quick wave. “Sorry, I’m not a snake-man today. Just a coffee man.” He gestures to the cartful of coffee cans.

Stef ignores their brother and focuses on Georgie. “Dang, Georgie!” they say. “Thought I wasn’t gonna see any’a my students today. You followin’ me?” they tease.

“Maybe,” Georgie says with a sly glint in her eye. “Or maybe _you’re_ followin’ _me!”_

“Or maybe,” Gabe says, “we’re just coincidentally running into each other twice in one weekend. Think that makes more sense, honestly.”

“Nah,” Marco says, leaning over to grab a box of pancake mix off the shelf, “we’re definitely followin’ you.”

Stef elbows him in the side, and Georgie gasps, pointing emphatically at him. “I _knew_ it!” she says. “I’m gonna fistfight you for that. Winner gets the fair maiden, Angel the corn snake!”

“Georgie, please don’t fight grown men in the breakfast aisle,” Gabe says, and there’s a crease forming between his eyes, like he thinks his kid might actually jump Marco or something. It’s cute.

“It’s okay,” Marco says, dropping the box into the cart. “I’d fold like a card table if you tried anything. We can just say you fought me and won.”

“Doesn’t seem very fair,” Georgie says with pursed lips, “but I guess that’ll work!” She nods seriously, then turns back to her dad. “Are we done now? Is it time to go home?”

“Uh.” Gabe looks down at his phone. “We need chocolate chips,” he says. _“Then_ we’re done.”

Stef edges a little closer to Gabe, craning their neck to look at his phone screen. “Whatcha makin’?” they ask.

Gabe blinks at them, looking more than a little confused, and only then does Stef realize that it’s probably not very normal to look at your student’s dad’s phone and delay him further from his task. They feel their face heat up a bit, and they open their mouth to say something--apologize, maybe--but Gabe just smiles at them and says, “Chocolate chip cookies. I’m teachin’ Georgie how to make ‘em.”

“I’m finally big enough to use the oven!” She says, bouncing on her toes. “Ooh! Mx. Campbell, Mx. Campbell! If I do _really_ good on the cookies, can I bring ‘em in to school an’ share ‘em with the class?!”

Stef laughs, a little startled. “Well,” they say, thinking. “I suppose so! Your daddy’s helpin’ ya make ‘em?” 

She nods.

Gabe’s a restaurant owner. That means he’s got a food handler’s license. So that’s good. Really good. “Then absolutely! You can bring ‘em in tomorrow!”

Georgie pumps her fist in the air. “Yes!” she exclaims. “Ya hear that, daddy? Isn’t that awesome?! Everyone’s gonna _love_ my cookies!”

“I’m sure they will,” he says with a grin, reaching out to ruffle her hair. He looks up at Stef, and they catch this little, like... _secretive_ smile on his face, half-hidden behind his screen of curly hair, and their heart _leaps_ in their chest. Oh no. Ohh, no no no. This is bad. They’re actually frickin’ _crushing_ on him!

“Well,” Gabe continues, straightening up. “We better get movin’ if we wanna make a batch’a cookies, huh Georgie?”

“Oh, yeah! Chocolate chips!” She waves to Stef and Marco. “Bye, Mx. Campbell! Bye, Snake Man! Nice to see you!”

“Nice to see you too, Georgie!” Stef calls as Georgie and Gabe move past them and around the corner, off in search of chocolate chips.

Stef’s not sure how long they’re staring after them, not even really paying attention to the fact that they _are,_ until Marco clears his throat behind them, and their eyes snap to his.

He’s _smirking,_ dang it.

“So,” Marco says, drawing it out, arching an eyebrow at them. “That was _the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life,_ huh?”

Stef can feel their face heat up _again,_ and they shove Marco’s shoulder. “Shut _up,_ ” they hiss. “What if he _hears_ you, oh my _god!”_

“Not denyin’ it, I see.” 

“Okay, no, I’m _not,_ because--did you _see_ him, Marco?! He’s just--he’s--! _Ugh!_ ” Stef groans, fighting to keep their voice down. “Look, look, whatever, he’s hot as heck, okay, can we please talk about this _later?_ Or never, maybe?”

Marco hums in reply, pushing the cart down the aisle once more. “I dunno,” he says. “He wasn’t _that_ hot. Too tall.” 

“Shut _up!”_

Stef loves shopping with their brother. Even if he _is_ a class-A jerk.

**Friday, November 22.**

The bell above the door jingles, and Gabe looks up from where he’s wiping down a table. “Welcome, sit wherever you--oh!” He straightens up with a grin when he spots Stef, still dressed in their more professional school-day attire. “Stef, hi!”

Stef smiles at him, but it’s a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach their eyes. “Hey, Gabe,” they say, and they sound... significantly less chipper than they usually do.

Since that fateful day a couple of weeks ago, when Stef came into the diner to visit Shaw, they’ve come in to eat a few times. Sometimes they bring their brother, Marco, and sometimes they come alone. Once, they brought their friend Simon, who Gabe belatedly recognized as the man with the green mohawk from the Halloween party. 

Gabe’s grateful for the business, of course, but he can’t deny the way his heart seems to beat faster whenever Stef comes in, the _joy_ he feels when he sees their face. 

He isn’t quite sure what word to put to that emotion yet, but it’s a good feeling.

Today, though, seeing them look so... _put out_ , is decidedly _not_ a good feeling. 

“Hey,” he replies, tossing his cloth back into the bucket, “you look like you could use a little pick-me-up. Coffee?”

Stef makes a face, dropping into a chair at a nearby window seat. “Ugh, no _thank_ you,” they say. _“Anything_ but coffee.”

He laughs. “Really? Kinda thought you were a coffee fiend, with how many canisters I saw in your cart that time.”

“Ew, no! That was all my brother’s! I can’t stand the stuff unless it’s, like, three-quarters milk and full of sugar.” They’re frowning heavily at him, but they no longer look so down in the dumps, so Gabe counts this as a win.

“Alright, then. No coffee. Maybe some cocoa? Or tea?”

They perk up a little then. “Tea? Heck yeah! What kind?”

“Black tea, green tea, mint tea, or peach. Any’a that interest you?”

“Mm, yeah, how ‘bout peach?” They smile then, just a little smile, but infinitely better than the dark cloud they’d been wearing when they came in. 

He grins back at them. “One peach tea, comin’ up!” he says. “I’ll bring a menu when I get back, too.”

Stef nods to him, and props their elbow up on the table to give him a little wave, so he goes off with a spring in his step. It’s a slow day, for a Friday, and it’s almost his break time anyway, so he’s gonna see if he can figure out what’s up before Stef has to leave again.

He fills two mugs with hot water and grabs two bags of tea, then tucks a menu under his arm and carries them both out into the dining room. He pointedly ignores Cole’s own pointed glance as he leaves.

He finds Stef being entertained by Bunny, who apparently hadn’t seen Gabe talking with Stef and has handed them a menu. 

“Hey, Bunny,” he says. “Sorry, I’ve got Stef.”

She looks at the mugs in his hands. “Oh!” she says, jumping a little. “Oh, yeah, sure, okay! I’ll just--” She grabs the menu out of Stef’s hands and hurries away, back toward the kitchen.

Stef stares after her, and their expression is so goddamn _bewildered_ that Gabe can’t help but laugh again, accidentally spilling a little of the hot water on his hand. “Ow, shit!” he hisses, quickly setting them down and shaking his hand. “Damn, sorry ‘bout that.” He slides into the chair across from them. “Hope you don’t mind me joining you. It’s basically my break anyway.”

“Oh, no, be my guest!” Stef says, and then shakes their head. “Sorry, I just--you okay?”

“What? Oh--” Gabe looks down at his hand. There’s a little redness there, but nothing too bad. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Sorry.” He pushes one of the mugs toward them and passes the bag of peach tea to them. “I forgot you hadn’t met Bunny yet. She’s a little jumpy.”

“Yeah.” Stef shakes their head, looking down to open their tea bag and put it in the mug. “Thanks for this. I forget restaurants have tea an’ that kinda thing sometimes.”

“No problem.” He sets about fixing up his own tea, then looks back up at them. They’re looking through the menu, brow furrowed and lips pursed, but Gabe’s not sure if they’re actually _looking_ at the menu or just sort of… _staring_ at it.

“Hey,” he says, quietly, and Stef glances up again, meeting his eyes. “Are you feelin’ alright?”

“I’m okay,” they say, glancing away again and fiddling with their silverware. As clear an indication as any that the answer is actually _no._

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, and Stef looks up again, sharply this time. Gabe swallows, not quite sure if he’s overstepped his bounds. Sure, Stef comes in pretty frequently, and they make good conversation, but that doesn’t mean they’re _friends._ He’s a cook! Of _course_ customers are gonna make conversation with him, it’s only _polite_ to do so! Shit.

“I dunno,” Stef says, sighing. They grip their mug between both hands and bring it to their lips, blowing gently on it before taking a sip. The steam fogs up their glasses, just a little. “I don’t know if it’s--if I _should_ talk about it.”

“Why’s that?” Gabe asks, heart rate slowing down a little. 

“Well…” Stef sets their mug back down and bites their lip. “It’s not really… I mean, I don’t think it…” They sigh again, taking their glasses off and wiping them on their sleeve. Gabe watches their movements, waiting.

They slip their glasses back on. “So,” they say, straightening up, but not looking at him, “my brother started dating this guy recently.”

“Right.” Gabe can vaguely remember the shorter guy who’d been practically attached to Marco’s hip at the Halloween party. He was dressed as Perseus to Marco’s Medusa, he’s pretty sure. “Uh, I met him once. For, like, a minute. What was his name…?” He seriously can’t remember. Maybe he wasn’t introduced?

Stef sighs again. “Dante,” they say, and there’s something in their tone, something almost _venomous._ “His name’s Dante.”

“Right, Dante.” The name doesn’t sound familiar at all. “Okay, so Marco and Dante are dating. What does that have to do with your bad mood?”

He winces as soon as he’s said it; _‘bad mood’_ sounds too rude. 

But Stef doesn’t seem to care about that. They shrug. “I don’t trust him. And Marco spends so much time with him, I--” They shake their head. “Today’s Dante’s birthday, and Marco’s off celebrating with him.” They lean to one side, propping their elbow on the table and leaning their cheek into the palm of their hand. “I mean, of _course_ people wanna celebrate their significant others’ birthdays with ‘em, but… I feel like I’ve barely seen my brother lately, and… and, well, he has a bad track record with… some stuff I probably shouldn’t go into, and… _ugh!”_ They shove their glasses up, rubbing the palms of their hands into their eyes. “Dang it, I can’t explain it, I just-- _ugh.”_

Gabe’s not quite sure he follows, but whatever it is that’s going on with Stef and their brother, it sounds complicated. And it’s clearly a family thing Stef doesn’t want to involve Gabe in, so he decides to let it drop. “Sorry to hear that,” he says. “It sounds tough. How about I bring you a sandwich and a slice of pie? On the house, of course.”

"Oh, no, Gabe... you don't have to do that...!" Stef pulls their hands away from their face, their glasses dropping back into place. 

He smiles at them. "Look, there's not a lot I can do to cheer you up," he says. "So let me just do what I can, okay?"

There's a beat of silence between them, while Stef watches Gabe. And then they sigh, and smile back at him--just a tentative little smile--and nod. "Yeah, okay," they say. "Thanks, Gabe."

"Not a problem." He slides out of the booth. "Hang tight, I'll be right back." He'd love to give them a hug, or at least some decent _advice,_ but their friendship's not quite there yet, he thinks. 

But things are progressing well. Gabe's pretty sure he can count Stef Campbell among his friends.

**Thursday, November 28.**

At least they and Marco didn't have to drive down to their parents' for Thanksgiving this year, Stef thinks to themself as they squint down at the recipe card. Of course, they'll still have to go down for Christmas, but that won't be _nearly_ as bad as Thanksgiving usually is.

"Hey, Marco!" Stef calls into the living room. "How the hell do you check the _'internal temperature'_ of a turkey?!"

"Use a meat thermometer," Marco calls back. 

"Like the kind that goes under your tongue?" 

"Stef."

"Simple question!"

"No, Stef. _Not_ the kind that goes under your tongue."

Stef sighs and pulls out their phone. Looks like they'll have to Google it themself. This is the first year they've cooked Thanksgiving dinner, and they want it to be perfect. Of course, they don't really cook much, _anyway._ Sandwiches, heating up soups, boxed dinners--those are all nothing like making an entire dinner _from scratch!_

But they have a lot to be thankful for this year, and they don't have to spend all weekend with their parents and extended family, and Shaw's coming over later with a pecan pie, so it's fine. It's _good,_ even.

"Stef," Marco calls. "Parade's startin'. Want me to pause it? So you can see the first marchin' band? I'm gonna pause it." The noises from the TV cut out, and Stef grins to themself. 

"Thanks, Marco!" they shout back, opening up the oven and shoving the turkey inside. "Be there in a minute, just gotta get the turkey started!" They hastily turn the oven on and throw away the garbage, then hurry into the living room to snuggle up on the couch with their brother. 

"Ready?" he asks, lifting the remote in one hand.

"Yeah! Let's get our parade on, baby bro!"

Marco snorts and presses play.

\-----

"Daddy!" Georgie yells, bouncing on her toes. "Daddy, can we call Dad now? He's not busy right now, right? Is he cookin' this year? Who's cookin'? Daddy! Can we call 'im? _Please?"_

Gabe sighs, chuckling. "Uh, yeah, I don't think he's busy right now." He hits _pause_ on the remote and turns toward her. "You'll have to ask him yourself, though. I don't know what their plans over there were this year." He pushes himself up off the couch and grabs his phone from where it's plugged in on the counter. He unlocks it and swiftly pulls up Damien's contact information, hitting the _video call_ button.

Georgie pulls him over to the couch again and plops herself in his lap, snagging the phone out of his hands and staring eagerly at the screen while it rings. Gabe smiles, lifting his hand to pet her curls.

Damien picks up after just a couple of rings, and his face fills the screen, dark skin and black curls. He has a new eyebrow piercing, Gabe notices. 

"Georgie! My little baby doll, how _are_ you?" he says, grinning, and Georgie laughs.

"Real good, Dad! Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, sweetie! And you, Gabe!"

Gabe waves at the camera. "Hope you guys are havin' a good Thanksgiving," he says. "Sorry I couldn't get a pie sent up to you."

Damien flaps a hand at him, blowing a raspberry. "It's fine, it's fine. Jason bought a pumpkin pie from Walmart. It's about as good as yours."

Gabe makes an exaggerated face of offense, turning toward Georgie. "Can you _believe_ this, Georgie?! Your dad says my pies are on the same level as _Walmart_ pies!"

She giggles. "He's just jealous," she says, "'cause _we_ get _your_ pies!"

"Oh, _please,"_ Damien says, rolling his eyes with a grin. "I'm _never_ jealous." He pauses. "Well, okay. Maybe I'm a _little_ jealous. But only because your daddy gets to spend Thanksgiving with you! Ugh, Christmastime can't get here fast _enough,_ I can't wait to give you all the hugs and kisses I've been storing up for you!"

"I miss you, too, dad," Georgie says, and her voice is softer than usual. Gabe feels a pang in his chest; he's happy with his decision to move to California, of course, glad to have the diner and this fresh start, glad to have Georgie to himself, but, well... he can't help but wonder, sometimes, if he made the best decision by pulling Georgie away from everything and everyone she's ever known.

He shakes the feeling off. Georgie's _happy_ here, and she made the decision to come with him all on her own. Besides, it's not like _he_ doesn't miss Damien sometimes. They may be divorced, but they were friends before they got married, and they've been friends since the divorce, too. It's natural to miss someone you've spent twelve years with; in Georgie's case, the past _nine_ years have been her whole life. There's no need for him to be so upset.

"...new friends at your school?" Damien's asking when Gabe tunes back in.

Georgie nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! My _best_ friend is Sarah! She likes different comics than me, but we like the same cartoons and we like to draw. Everyone in my class is really fun, though, so they're all my friends, too! Oh, and Mrs. Kimura! She's a kindergarten teacher but she's my friend too, 'cause she lets us big kids play with the legos an' stuff in her classroom on Fridays, an' she's friends with Mx. Campbell, too. Oh! And Daddy's friends with Mx. Campbell! Isn't that cool? They said I can call 'em Stef outside of school sometimes!"

"Oh, _did_ they now?" Damien asks, and Gabe can hear the spark of interest in his voice. He rolls his eyes.

"Yes, we're getting to be pretty good _friends,"_ he says, emphasizing the _"friend"_ so Damien doesn't get the wrong idea. Not that Gabe really has anything _against_ people thinking he's in a relationship with Stef--it's not as though he hasn't thought about it, after all--it's just that they're _not,_ and anyway, he has no idea if Stef'd be okay with people thinking that or not. Plus, he doesn't want _Georgie_ getting the wrong idea and going off to school to spread rumors like that.

Damien hums in reply, and Gabe can tell he doesn't quite believe him, but whatever. "It's _so_ nice that you _both_ have so many good friends already!" he says, turning his attention back to Georgie and giving her a big, sappy smile. One thing Gabe always appreciates about Damien is how much he loves Georgie. He dotes on her just as much as Gabe himself does--arguably _more_ than Gabe does. 

"Yeah! I still miss my old friends, but I like havin' lots of new ones too."

"That's terrific, sweetie! Ooh, why don't you tell me how you've been doing on your drawing!"

The conversation continues like this for another twenty minutes or so, with Damien and Georgie asking each other questions and Gabe interjecting every once in a while, before Gabe realizes they've got to get going soon if they want to get to Lola's in time for Thanksgiving dinner.

"You go on and get dressed," he says to Georgie. "I'll say goodbye to your dad."

"Okay." She waves to Damien and blows him a kiss. "Bye, dad!" she says. "Talk to you soon. And I'll see you next month!"

"Bye, baby!" Damien calls, wiggling his fingers at her. "Call me anytime you like. I love you _so_ much!"

"I love you too! Tell Jason an' everybody I love them, too!" Georgie hurries off to her room.

"She's as energetic as ever," Damien says, miming wiping sweat off of his forehead. 

Gabe laughs. "She gets that from you," he teases. "Anyway, I've really gotta get going. Thanks for taking the time to talk to Georgie; she really _has_ been missing you."

"Probably just as much as I've been missing her," Damien says with a sad smile. "Anyway!" he clears his throat and claps his hands. "I really _am_ happy you've got some friends up there, Gabe. You don't do well by yourself, and Georgie's not a substitute for adult company, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm actually... doing really well here, Damien." He grins, and Damien grins back. "I guess we'll know in a couple more months whether or not the diner's gonna succeed, and everything else... well." He shrugs. "This was the fresh start I needed."

"I'm glad." Damien runs his fingers through his short curls. "And I know I teased you about it earlier, but..." He leans in close to the camera, so that all Gabe can see is his eye and the eyebrow piercing above it. Gabe snorts out an amused laugh. _"Do_ you have a little _someone special_? Anyone you've got your eye on?"

He snorts again, shakes his head. "I'm too busy for romance," he says, half-truthfully. "And anyway, I'm fine being single. It doesn't bother me, you know?"

"I know." Damien pulls away from the camera, a thoughtful look on his face. "I just want you to know that if you _do_ start dating again, you have my full blessing."

"Damien," Gabe says, rolling his eyes, "we've been divorced for _five years._ You're _married!_ I hardly think I need your blessing." He grins. "But thanks. I'll let you know if I get into anything serious."

"Good." Damien watches him for a moment, the two silent. Then he says, "Okay, well, I'll let you go. Thanks so much for calling me, Gabe! Tell the munchkin I love her, will you?"

"Of course. Bye, Damien. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Gabe!"

The screen goes dark as Damien hangs up, and Gabe tucks his phone into his pocket as he goes to get ready.

He always has a lot on his mind, but tonight he means to leave most of it behind and just focus on the good things: Friends, family, and good food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Names:  
> | Gabe Martín - Jet Star | Cole - Cherri Cola | Shaw Reidel - Show Pony | Georgie Martín - The Girl | Bunny - OC (also appears as Mad Rabbit in other fics) | Stef Campbell - Party Poison | Marco Campbell - Kobra Kid | Simon Moore - OC (also appears as Kiwi Blast in other fics) | Manami Kimura - Blue | Dante - Fun Ghoul | Lola - OC (also appears as Fruit Punch in other fics) | Sarah - OC | Damien - OC | Jason - OC |
> 
> This chapter was so much fun to write!! I love Marco and I love Georgie and I love Shaw and I love Damien. 😍
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment below! I'd love to know your thoughts!!  
> You can also message me on tumblr! [@enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/) I'm currently on a break from social media, so I won't reply to anything on tumblr until that's over, but rest assured I WILL reply to everything! 💖
> 
> Have a wonderful day! Take care of yourselves! See you soon!! ✨✌✨


	5. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya hiya! hope everyone's doing okay and that this fic can brighten your day a little if need be!! 💖  
> i've been so excited to post this chapter!! i hope you'll all enjoy it 👀
> 
> HUGE thank you as always to my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) and my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading!! 💖💖💖
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: transphobia, misgendering.

**Thursday, December 5.**

Gabe officially meets Dante when he takes his car to the mechanic to get the fan belt checked out.

Madhavi had recommended this garage to him, since he hadn't had the time or opportunity to just scope out mechanics and stuff in town. He'd set up the appointment about a week ago, and luckily there was a lull at the diner at just the right time for him to come down.

He's expecting a quick inspection, maybe to have to set up another appointment later or something. He's _not,_ however, expecting to see a semi-familiar face when he parks his car inside the shop.

"Hey," the guy says, popping the hood and peering in at the engine. Gabe can't help but stare at him for a minute, trying to place why he looks so _familiar._

He's a pretty short guy, with shoulder-length, messy black hair and light brown skin. He's got dark grease marks on his arms and a smear on his face.

Where does he _know_ him from?

"You got a problem?" the guy asks, shooting a glare in his direction, and Gabe blinks, realizing he'd been staring.

"Oh, no, sorry," he says, face heating. "I just, uh, you look familiar. Have we met?"

The guy squints at him for a long moment, making Gabe feel distinctly uncomfortable, and then his eyes widen and he snaps his fingers. "You were at the Halloween party at the school! Right? Li'l, uh... Georgie! Li'l Georgie's dad."

Gabe blinks again. "Yes... _Oh!"_ _Now_ he knows where he's seen this guy before. "You're, uh, Marco's boyfriend. Dante, right?" Marco's mentioned him once or twice when he'd come into the diner, and of course Stef's complained about him a few times.

"Fiance. And yeah, I'm Dante." He holds his hand out for Gabe to shake.

"Gabe. Nice to meet you." He readily grasps it, prepared for the oily feeling of the grease on his hand, but not for the unyielding sensation of metal against his skin. 

Gabe glances down as Dante withdraws his hand, and he's briefly startled to see that Dante's missing three fingers on his right hand; his middle, ring, and pinkie fingers are just stubs, with thin metal prosthetics attached.

Dante follows his gaze and snorts, lifting the hand up for Gabe to see better. He flexes the metal fingers. "Don't let anyone tell ya bein' a mechanic's easy," he says.

"Sorry," Gabe says. "Didn't mean to stare."

He shrugs, turning back to the engine. "Don't worry, I get it a lot." Well, _that_ doesn't exactly make Gabe feel any better. "Anyway, Marco says you're pretty cool, so I'll forgive ya this time."

"Oh." Gabe barely bites back the _'Marco says I'm cool?'_ at the tip of his tongue. He didn't think he'd even interacted with Stef's brother enough for the guy to _have_ an opinion on him. "Still."

"Whatever." There's some clinking and clanking noises from under the hood. "Anyway, Marco says he an' his sibling really like your food. Haven't had a chance to stop in yet, but maybe I will soon."

"Oh," Gabe says again. "Oh, uh, sure! I mean, I'm not gonna tell ya _not_ to come in. You'll definitely be welcomed. Are you gonna come in with Marco and Stef next time they come by?"

"Prob'ly not with Stef," Dante says, and his voice is tighter than it had been a moment ago. Well, it only stands to reason that he'd be upset or annoyed at the idea of eating lunch with Stef; he's still not sure what exactly is going on between them, but Stef clearly doesn't like Dante, and so Dante probably doesn't hold much fondness for Stef, either.

"Well, that's fine. Whenever you come in, just let your server know that you're a friend of mine and I'll come say hi." Or is that too familiar? He _just_ met the guy like, two minutes ago. "Er, and bring you something on the house."

Dante snorts again, leaning up out from under the hood and peering at him. "Well, _I'm_ not gonna say no to free food," he says. "I got a day off soon. I'll come by if I can wrangle Marco over there."

Gabe gives him a warm smile. "Sounds great," he says. He'd love to talk with Dante more, maybe find out why Stef hates him so much. He really seems like a good guy, and Marco had seemed pretty happy whenever he mentioned him...

Ugh, Gabe should _not_ be getting so involved. It's none of his business!

Still, he doesn't like seeing Stef so upset....

"Anyway, your car's fixed." Dante reaches up and lowers the hood of the car, dropping it back into place with a _clunk._ "Fan belt was just a li'l loose. Nothin' to worry about."

"Oh, that's a relief," Gabe says. He hadn't really thought there'd been anything _too_ wrong with the car, but it's nice to know the car's not gonna end up exploding while he's driving Georgie to school one of these days. "How much do I owe you?"

Dante shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "Dude, I barely touched it. It took, like, five minutes."

Gabe can only stare at him, confused. Is he supposed to know how much five minutes of a mechanic's time is worth? Is that a thing here in California? Is it something everyone's supposed to know, but no one outright tells you?

Dante laughs, apparently seeing Gabe's look of confusion or horror or whatever had been showing. "You don't _owe_ me anything," he says. "Go on back home or to work or whatever you're doin'." He pulls a rag out of his pocket and wipes his hands off, paying special attention to his metal fingers.

"Uh?" Gabe says, still confused. "You can't--I mean, it was still _time_ out of your day, how--"

"Look," Dante cuts him off. "You're gonna give me free food, yeah? Consider this a fair trade. And promise you'll come back here next time somethin' goes screwy with your car. Deal?"

"I, uh--yeah!" Gabe grins, reaching up to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. "That... that sounds fair."

"Good." Dante grins back at him, stuffing the rag back into his pocket. "Now, seriously, get outta here. I got other people to deal with an' your car's blockin' 'em."

"Oh, right. Sorry." 

  
  


**Friday, December 20.**

"Can't believe it's _finally_ the last day of school," Stef groans, rubbing their eyes and squinting up at Simon. 

Simon snorts, grabbing one of the little plastic chairs and spinning it around, sitting in it backwards to face Stef. Simon's huge, well over six foot, and the effect is pretty darn comical. "Ready for a nice vacation, huh?"

"Mmph." Stef settles their glasses back on their nose to look down at the papers in front of them. "Dunno if you can really call it a _'vacation'_ when Marco an' I gotta go to our parents'." They have _not_ been looking forward to that. They never do; there's a reason (okay, _several_ reasons), after all, that they and Marco had moved far enough away that they're only obligated to visit for certain holidays.

"Yeah, but that's only, like, two days, yeah? You can deal with two days."

_"Three_ days," Stef corrects.

"Oh, my bad," Simon says with a playful roll of his eyes. _"Three_ days. You guys'll be fine. If you need to leave early or you just wanna chill with someone who's _not_ a bigoted fu--er, jerkwad, Madhavi and I're gonna be home pretty much all'a winter break. You can come hang out anytime."

They grin at him, warmth blooming in their chest. "Thanks, Si," they say. It's always nice to know they've got a friend like Simon on their side.

A tap at the door. Stef and Simon both look up to see Manami peering in, her blue hair hanging in her face. "Hey," she says, grinning. "Just another hour 'til the pageant, and then we're free for a whole two weeks!" She steps into the room, walking over to the desk. "You excited?"

"Varying degrees of excited," Simon says, bouncing in the chair. The plastic creaks, but Stef's seen fourth graders put it through worse treatment, so they don't worry about it. "You got any plans?"

Manami shrugs. "Rosana and I don't really celebrate Christmas," she says. "We're just gonna spend time relaxing. Maybe break out a board game. You know, saucy adult stuff like Clue."

Stef snorts, smiling. "Sounds like you guys're gonna have a good break." Honestly, Stef probably _will_ have a good break, too, but the constant reminder that they'll have to see their parents just really puts a damper on things. They just hope their parents won't be so bad this year. And that Marco won't backslide....

\-----

Gabe's happy to find that he's not nervous at all as he crowds into the gym with the other parents. He'd been worried beforehand about feeling out of place, but the excitement at seeing his daughter perform the songs she's been eagerly practicing all month had far outweighed that, and now that he's here, he sees all the other parents and guardians dressed as festive as he is, phones out ready to take pictures and video, giddily chatting among themselves.

He tugs on his ugly Christmas sweater (bright blue, with a pattern of multi-colored Christmas lights strung all around it) and squeezes into the aisle, arranging himself on one of the cold metal folding chairs. He's seated only a few rows back, so he has a pretty good view of the stage.

The kids are all waiting somewhere backstage, he assumes. They'll probably start pretty soon, though, since it looks like the gym is pretty full of people now. 

He checks his phone, makes sure the sound is off and that he's got a good view of the stage.

"Gabe!" calls a familiar voice, and he looks up to find Stef standing in the row in front of him, beaming at him. "You made it!"

Gabe smiles back. It's been a little over a week since he last saw Stef. "Of course," he says. "Georgie's been practicing for this all month, I'm not gonna miss it."

"She'll be glad to see ya," they say, sitting down in the chair directly in front of him and twisting their torso to keep their eye on him. "You filmin' it?"

He looks back down at his phone, the camera app still open. "Yeah. I don't want Damien to miss out on any of this kinda stuff just because we live farther away now."

"Damien?" Stef's tone causes him to look up again; they're watching him with a calm, relaxed expression, but their voice sounds tight.

"Uh, yeah. Damien, Georgie's dad. My ex-husband." He tilts his head as he watches Stef's eyes widen and then quickly narrow back to their original expression. _What?_

"Oh," Stef says, clearing their throat. "I'd, ah, I'd wondered. If, you know, she had another parent around."

What's with the forced nonchalance? Is Gabe hearing things? He shrugs, toying with his phone. "Ah, yeah. I mean, we got divorced... five years ago? We just moved out of the city, though, so Georgie's still been adjusting to having just me around. She and Damien miss each other a lot. Of course, she's gonna be spending the holidays with him, so that'll make up for a little bit of lost time, but I try to, you know, send videos or pictures or updates or _whatever_ from anything big happening in her life." He winces. _Shut up!_ "Ah, sorry, didn't mean to ramble."

"No, no, it's fine. You're--yeah! Yeah, it's fine." Stef's waving one hand around, and they look flustered. What had he said to _fluster_ them?

"Wait," Gabe says, fighting back a smirk and cocking an eyebrow at them. "Did you not know I was queer?"

Their face flushes red and their hand drops into their lap. Ah-ha! _Bingo._ "Well, ah, no, not really!"

He feigns offense. "I hate to think that I give off straight vibes," he says teasingly. "But, yeah. Hi, I'm Gabe, I have an ex-husband, and I'm queer as--" he barely stops himself from dropping a _fuck_ in the elementary school gym full of parents. "As, uh. Heck."

Stef laughs, then, and it certainly _sounds_ genuine, and not like they're making fun of him. "Hi, Gabe," they say through their giggles, and Gabe can't help but think how _cute_ that is. "Man, I shoulda _known_ you were _somewhere_ in the acronym when you got my pronouns right the first time." They shake their head. "To this day, even when we send out papers with all the staff's pronouns, I _swear_ the only people who get it the first time are fellow el-gee-bee-tees." 

Gabe opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted by a blue-haired woman touching Stef's shoulder. They turn and look at her.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "but we're about to start."

"Oh!" they hastily get to their feet. "Right, right. Uh, sorry, Gabe! Happy holidays if I don't see ya before Christmas or whatever." 

"Uh, yeah," Gabe says to Stef's retreating back, "same to you!"

Stef and the blue-haired woman disappear into the crowd, and Gabe turns back to his phone. The screen's gone dark, and he doesn't really want to waste the battery, so he just turns it over and over in his hand as he waits for the show to start.

The lights around the stage dim, and the chatter around him goes quiet. He can see the shapes of children onstage as they take their places; he gets his phone into position and starts recording just as the lights come back on.

And there they are: probably not the _whole_ school, because Gabe doesn't see any real little kids, but at _least_ grades one through four, standing on staggered steps in four rows, with the youngest kids at the bottom and the oldest at the top. 

He finds Georgie easily, his eyes drawn to her big, fluffy hair and the wide, excited smile she wears on her face. She's a little left of center, and he zooms the camera in on her a bit, waving with his free hand.

She waves back, and a moment later, music blares from the speakers, guitar and bells, and the kids start singing.

Gabe doesn't fight the grin he knows is spreading across his face, just lets it widen. Georgie's so _into_ it, belting out the lyrics and shaking her arms in the air, wiggling from side to side as she dances to the music as best she can in the narrow space she's allowed. She's so _cute,_ and he's _so proud_ of her!

When the song ends, she throws a big smile his way and waves again. He waves back.

He's gonna miss her so much these next two weeks.

**Sunday, December 22.**

"When's he gonna be here?" Georgie asks, bouncing in the diner booth. Gabe stifles a sigh and gives her a smile, reaching across the table to ruffle her hair.

"Soon, kiddo," he says. "It's only been five minutes since the last time you asked." It had actually been closer to two or three minutes, but still.

"D'you think Gramma an' Grampa'll like the ornament I made 'em?"

"They'll love it, Georgie. You worked real hard on it." He'd bought her a little plastic tree ornament to decorate last week, and she'd absolutely _covered_ it in glitter glue. The thing might actually make his mom go blind, but she'll love it either way.

Georgie nods and turns to look out the window, tapping out a rhythm on the table. Gabe looks back down at the paperwork in front of him, but a moment later, he hears her gasp and looks back up sharply.

"He's here! Daddy, daddy, look, there's his car, he's _here!"_ Georgie scrambles to get out of the booth, leaving behind all her bags in her mad dash for the door.

Gabe lets himself sigh this time, gathering up all his paperwork and stowing it carefully back in his office before coming back to pick up all her luggage.

He's gonna miss her _so much._

Damien's got Georgie in his arms when Gabe comes out, swinging her around and hugging her tight. "My little baby girl!" he says. "You've gotten so _big!"_

"I grew a whole inch!" Georgie says excitedly, and Gabe sets one of her bags down by Damien's car just as Damien spots him.

"Gabe!" Damien keeps his grip on Georgie, but reaches out for Gabe, too, flexing his fingers in a grabby-hands motion.

Gabe laughs, ducking in to wrap his arms around the both of them and squeeze. "Hey, Damien," he says. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, seriously! Ugh, I'm _never_ gonna get used to having you in a whole other _state!_ It was bad enough when you got your own apartment just, like, down the _street._ " Damien releases Gabe and sets Georgie on the ground. "Wish we could stay longer and chat, but we've gotta get goin' if we wanna be home before nighttime."

"That's okay," Gabe says. "Maybe when you bring her back, you can stay the night? We don't have a guest room, but I could take the couch. Or, if Jason wanted to come, I could put the two of you up in a hotel?"

Damien grins. "Yeah, sounds great! I wanna see where the two of you are puttin' down roots. We'll figure out the details when it gets closer to the date." He turns to Georgie, who's bouncing on her toes. "Well, pumpkin, you ready to go?"

"Yeah!" Georgie leans over and wraps her arms around Gabe's waist, hugging him. He's not gonna cry, he's not gonna cry, _he's not gonna cry._ "Bye, daddy!"

Gabe leans down to hug her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and ruffling her curls when he straightens up. "Bye, Georgie. You be good for your dad, yeah? Don't cause him or your grandparents too much trouble." He pauses, then grins. "You can be as much trouble for Jason as you like, though."

She gives him a mischievous smirk, and Damien laughs. "Bet we can prank 'im real good!" he says. "But I'm sure you'll be an _angel,_ as always. Now c'mon, sweetheart, we've gotta get goin' before the traffic's too bad!"

Gabe helps pack up Damien's car with all the things Georgie will need for the next two weeks, and gets her situated in the back seat with her comics and a boxed lunch, and he kisses her cheek just before shutting the door. "Bye, my little Georgia peach," he calls, waving, as Damien heads out of the parking lot and out onto the street.

He's gonna miss her _so much._

**Tuesday, December 24.**

Christmas Eve isn't as busy in the diner as Stef had thought it would be. 

They're not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, and maybe it's just because it's still fairly early in the morning, but they can't help but feel a little glad about it when they enter the building and see people at only one table. They lead Marco over to their usual table--a booth with a direct line of sight to the counter and the window to the kitchen--and sit down to wait.

Their stomach's so tied up in knots they can't _stand_ it! They wish they could just sit here in this booth for the next three days instead of travelling halfway across the state to see their freaking _parents._ Ugh. This is gonna be a _nightmare._

"We can still call it off," Marco says, and Stef doesn't look up to meet his eyes, choosing instead to toy with the sugar canister in front of them. "We don't _have_ to go. We can just stay in town for Christmas."

"No, we can't," they sigh. "We already said we'd go, an' we didn't go for Thanksgiving, so now we've gotta bite the bullet." They turn the sugar canister around and around in their hands, keeping their eyes on it.

Marco grunts. "We're _adults,"_ he argues, for the umpteenth time this month, "we don't _have_ to--"

"Stef, Marco!" Gabe, Stef's personal goshdarn _savior,_ interrupts, stepping up to the table. "Wasn't expecting to see you two today! What can I get ya?"

"Wasn't expectin' _you_ to be waiting tables," Stef says, setting the sugar aside and looking up into Gabe's _deliciously_ handsome face. Usually when they stop by, Shaw or Bunny take their orders, and then Gabe comes out to say hi and maybe sit and chat for a bit if he has time.

"Ah, yeah," he says, handing them each a menu. "Shaw's off for Hanukkah, and the guy I hired to fill in for aer couldn't make it today. Bunny'll be in later, but for now it's just me and Cole. D'you want somethin' to drink? Tea for Stef, coffee for Marco?"

"Gabe Martin, I would _love_ some tea," Stef cries, beaming up at him. "D'you have..." they lower their voice conspiratorially. "...the _stuff?"_

"Do I have the cinnamon tea you asked me about last time you came in? Yes." He scribbles something down on his little pad of paper. "Cinnamon tea, hot coffee. Back in a few!" He grins at the both of them and hurries into the kitchen.

Dang... what a guy. Cute, sweet, talented as heck, _and_ queer? Oh man... Stef's got it _bad._

"You've got it _bad,_ " Marco says, and Stef looks up sharply. His mouth is a straight line, his expression bored, but his eyes are twinkling mischievously. Jerk. "Did he buy _cinnamon tea_ just for you?"

"I mean--! I don't know that _for sure,"_ Stef says, trying not to look as hopeful at the idea as they feel. "Maybe someone else asked about it too, an' there's a market for it, an'--"

"Uh huh." Marco snorts and leans back in his seat. "You should ask 'im out."

_"Marco!"_ Stef hisses, leaning across the table to thrust their finger in his face. "You better keep your mouth _shut,_ mister! If he hears you--"

"Here he comes," Marco says, pulling out his phone.

Stef quickly sits back in their own seat, turning their head, and--yep. There's Gabe, carrying two mugs over to them. He sets the coffee down in front of Marco and a mug of hot water in front of Stef, then slips a little tea bag over to them. The scent of cinnamon wafts up to their nose as they open it, and their eyes water a little bit; dang. This guy really knows the way to Stef's heart.

"Here ya go!" he says. "Know what you wanna eat?"

"Uh," says Stef, who hasn't even touched their menu since having it handed to them. "Uh...."

"Pancakes," Marco says, without looking up from his phone. "For both of us. Sound good, Stef?" 

"Oh. Uh, yeah! Pancakes! Great! Yes. Pancakes. Please. And thank you," Stef says, handing their menu back to Gabe and wishing they could just _shut up._

"Pancakes!" Gabe scribbles that on his pad and gives Stef another blinding smile. Their heart won't stop _fluttering,_ _frick!_ "I'll be back with those in a jiffy!" He turns and leaves, and Stef can't help but watch him go.

"Oh my _god,"_ Marco says. "Just ask him _out!"_

"Will you _shut up?"_ Stef hisses, burying their face in their hands. "Seriously! He is the _parent_ of one of my _students!_ That's probably crossing _so_ many lines!"

Marco snorts. "Doubt it," he says. "An' anyway, that's not the reason you're holdin' back."

"Shut _up,_ " they sigh, dropping their hands and reaching for their mug of hot water. "Seriously, can we _please_ change the subject?"

"Fine," Marco says, setting his phone screen-down on the table. "I think we should call Mom an' Dad an' tell 'em to shove it."

Stef sputters, nearly dropping hot water down their nice, neat button-up. "No! Are you _kidding?!_ Marco, look, if you don't wanna go, that's _fine._ You can stay with Shaw, or... _Dante."_ They try very hard not to grimace when they say his name. "But we can't just... _say_ that, an' we-- _I-_ -can't just _not go._ "

"Yes you can," Marco says. "Look, _you're_ the one they're gonna be pickin' on this whole time, not _me."_

"You don't know that," Stef says, feeling miserable as they stir sugar into their cinnamon tea.

"Fuck off," Marco says, but there's no real heat behind his words. "They won't have _changed_ since the last time we saw 'em. They haven't changed their opinions since _you_ were in high school."

Stef grits their teeth. They'd _love_ to just stay here in town and hang out with their friends and Marco all holiday season, they _seriously_ would, but they _can't._

"Look, just..." Stef sighs. "Just drop it, okay Marco? If you don't wanna go, it's _fine._ But I have to."

He sighs, reaching for the sugar canister by Stef's elbow. "You know I can't let you go by yourself," he grumbles. 

Despite themself, Stef gives him a smile.

\-----

Gabe clutches the little tin tight in his hand. It's not weird. Right? No, of _course_ it's not weird! ... _Right?_ Ugh, he doesn't know! _Maybe_ it's weird? it's probably weird.

Well, whatever. Who cares if it's weird? If Stef thinks it's weird, he'll just... well, he'll just have to hide in the kitchen every time they drop by ( _if_ they drop by after this), and stop volunteering at Georgie's school functions until she graduates to middle school next year, and... well, parent-teacher conferences will be awkward, but they kind of are anyway, so... it's _fine._

He steels himself in the kitchen doorway, sucking in a deep, steadying breath. It'll be _fine._ It's _not_ weird. They're _friends!_ Right? Well, they're definitely not _strangers._ So. It's _not_ weird. Probably.

He steps back out into the quiet dining room and heads over to Stef and Marco's table. They've both finished their pancakes and are talking about something. Stef tilts their head back and laughs, mouth open wide. Gabe can't help but grin at the sight; they look so _happy._

Stef's gaze shifts to his then, and something in their expression softens. Fuck, they're cute. His grip tightens on the tin again, and he forces himself not to run away, instead passing them their bill. "Here," he says. "Uh, thanks for stopping by this morning. It was good to see you." He pauses, looking down at the little snowflake-patterned tin in his hands. He wets his lips. Now or never. "Uh, here--" he thrusts the tin out to Stef, nearly clouting them in the head in the process. "Shit, sorry--uh."

"Gabe, Gabe, calm _down,"_ Stef says soothingly. They carefully take the tin from him. "What's this?"

"Uh." He clears his throat, taps his fingers against his thigh. "It's. Well. They're cookies."

"Cookies?" Stef pries off the lip and peers inside at the contents. There's a few different types in there: snickerdoodles and chocolate chip and, on the top, three star-shaped sugar cookies, iced in red, blue, and purple. "Cookies! What are they for?"

"Uh. You." God, he sounds like an _idiot._ "Well, I just wanted to give you a little something. For Christmas. Which is tomorrow." They _know_ Christmas is tomorrow, damn it! Get to the point! "It's just, you know. A gift. Not much, but--"

"Thank you," Stef interrupts him, and there's that soft look in their eyes again, the gentle upward tug of their lips. Gabe sucks in an involuntary breath. "This is awesome! I don't even know what to say! Just... thank you!" They tuck the tin close to their chest and beam up at him. He swallows.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course! Uh, merry Christmas, I... hope you have a good one!" And then he really does run away, hurrying back into the kitchen. God, he feels like he's sixteen again and stuffing secret love notes in his crushes' lockers. He's _27 years old,_ and--and, god, it's _not_ a crush!

"Romantic gift-giving go well, then?" Cole asks from where he's cleaning the counters, and Gabe can't help but groan.

God, is it better or worse that Georgie's not here to see her dad acting like an idiot?

\-----

"Holy _heck,"_ Stef says excitedly, tilting the tin toward Marco. "Cookies! For _me!_ Marco, oh my _gosh._ "

"Still don't think he does things _just for you,_ hm?"

"Shut up," Stef says for the thousandth time, but they don't actually _deny_ anything this time.

Gabe Martin is frickin' _sweet_ as _heck._ Stef's totally gone on him.

They're gonna pretend this isn't a problem for a while.

\-----

"Not too late to turn around," Marco mutters from the passenger seat, and Stef's hands clench tighter around the steering wheel.

"Yes it _is,"_ they say. "We're literally _in the driveway!"_

"They probably haven't spotted us yet," Marco insists. "Can make a clean getaway before they--aw. Curtains twitched. Mom spotted us."

Stef's gut clenches. Three hours of driving, and their anxiety's only been increasing since they left the diner. Ugh. It's been almost a year since they saw their parents last, and the monthly phone calls haven't helped ease their dread at all.

They sigh, releasing the steering wheel and hastily undoing their seatbelt. "Let's go, then," they say.

"Grab as many bags as ya can," Marco says, "and maybe ya won't have to deal with a hug."

Stef ignores him, only taking out their own suitcase and the bag of presents. Marco can fill his arms with bags if _he_ wants to avoid a hug--not that _Marco_ really needs an excuse to avoid a hug. They shut the car door, steel themself, and make their way up to their parents' house.

The door opens before they can knock, and yup, there's their mom, arms outstretched and smiling wide enough to showcase the dimples on one cheek. They suck in a breath almost without realizing it, anticipating how she's going to greet them this time.

"Stef!" she says, stepping forward and wrapping her long, thin limbs around their shoulders. They hesitate just a moment before leaning into her embrace, bringing up the arm holding the gifts to wrap it loosely around her waist. "It's _so_ good to see you, you look wonderful!"

"Thanks, mom," they say, and the knot of anticipation hasn't unwound itself yet. "Good to see you, too. How ya been?"

She pulls back, keeping them at arm's length and studying their face; they try not to look too stressed. She smiles at them, then, and leans in to kiss their cheek. "Your father and I have been _wonderful,_ " she says. "He has some _great_ stories to tell the two of you. Now, where's your brother--? Oh, Marco!" She releases Stef and takes a few steps past them; they turn to see Marco coming up behind them, his arms full of packages. "Oh, I hardly recognized you without all those piercings! You look like a new man! You look _wonderful!"_

"Thanks," Marco says, voice flat. He makes no move to hug their mother, and she hovers around him for a moment, uncertain.

Stef clears their throat. "Uh, me an' Marco'll get our stuff put away, an' then we'll come talk, okay?"

"Of course, of course!" Their mother beams at them, patting Stef on the cheek once before leading them both inside. "I'll just be in the living room. You boys know where to put your things!"

And, _oh._ It's like a punch to the gut, the knot in their stomach constricting even _tighter._ They can't tell if she _meant_ to misgender them, or if she just _forgot_ , don't know if they should correct her, or if they should just drop it, just deal with it. That's honestly probably the best course of action; they don't want to start anything, not when they _just_ got here.

They force a smile and follow her into the house.

"Mom," says Marco, in that cold, icy way that never means _anything_ good, "can you take the giftbag from Stef? _They_ don't need to take it all the way to _their_ room."

She pauses midstep, and Stef's heart is thudding horribly in their chest when she turns toward them. Why couldn't Marco have just let it go?! They _just_ got here, they could have dealt with it for a _little_ while! 

Their mother smiles again, a tight-lipped smile without the dimple. "Of course," she says. "Stef, honey, hand me that--and any other things you have."

Stef swallows and hands the bag over. She takes it, and meets their eye with another, gentler smile; the knot in their stomach loosens, just a little. So she just forgot. That's good. That's _fine._ Stef can deal with this.

Marco hands her a couple more bags, and then they separate, she to the living room where Stef can see a Christmas tree glowing, and they and Marco off down the hallway they'd shared as kids.

"Why'd you have to _do_ that?" Stef hisses under their breath as they head for their rooms. 

"Do what?" Marco asks, his tone still chillier than Stef would like, "Remind her of your goddamn pronouns? The same pronouns you've been askin' her to use since you were _sixteen?"_ he snorts. 

"I mean-- it's not that I don't _appreciate_ it," they say, because honestly, they _do,_ they can't _stand_ being misgendered, especially by people who should _know_ better, like their mom, but still. It's their _mom!_ "It's just-- I mean, she prob'ly forgot, I woulda reminded her later, it--"

"Stef." Marco's footsteps stop, and Stef reluctantly turns to face him in the dim, narrow hallway. "You _know_ she does it on purpose. She knows full fuckin' well that you're nonbinary. She does that shit on _purpose._ An' I'm not gonna let 'er get away with it. Not this year." He moves forward again, forcing Stef to turn back around and head for their room at the end of the hall. "Her _or_ dad, because _he's_ gonna pull the same shit."

Stef doesn't know whether to burst into tears or launch themself at their baby brother for a big hug--maybe _both_ would be a good option--but instead, they just give him a little smile over their shoulder and push open the door to their childhood bedroom.

It hasn't changed much since Stef left when they were eighteen.

The posters on the walls are gone, replaced by generic landscapes and bowls of fruit, but their bed is still in the same place, their old bedspread--recently washed and folded down--in place. The window blinds are still broken on one side, and the ancient desktop they'd used in high school sits on top of the old desk they'd done their homework at. 

The bookcase in the corner is full of their parents' things now, books they want but don't want to keep in the living room, old trinket boxes and figurines. 

They take their suitcase over to the closet and open the door. Inside hang a bunch of their mother's clothes, dresses and coats and things she probably hasn't touched in five years. They push their suitcase inside and shut the door again.

Their bedroom used to be a sanctuary; now it just feels old, empty.

Stef heads back out into the hall, backtracking one door down to Marco's room and pushing it open.

Marco's standing in the middle of the room, the handle of his suitcase clenched tightly in one hand, the other clutching at the footboard of his bed. His shoulders are hunched, his posture stiff. Stef's blood freezes; this is bad.

"Marco," they say, trying to keep their voice steady, soothing. They move forward and put a hand on his shoulder; he jumps, turns to look at them, and his eyes are wide, his teeth sunken into his lower lip. "Marco, kid, what's wrong?"

He sucks in a breath, closes his eyes. He slowly lets the breath out, and his shoulders relax; good. He's calming himself down. "Sorry," he says quietly. "I-- it's just. This room. Thought I could handle it, but it's... There's just too many bad memories in here."

"Do you wanna switch?" Now that Stef knows what's going on, it's that much easier to keep their voice calm. 

Marco's quiet for a moment. "Yeah," he says. "Think that'd prob'ly help." He turns toward the door, not quite looking at Stef, and picks his other bag up off the floor. "Thanks."

Stef sighs quietly, following him out. As long as _this_ is the worst thing to happen, they think they'll be able to call this visit a success.

**Wednesday, December 25.**

Christmas without Georgie is... weird, to say the least. He hasn't spent a Christmas away from his daughter since she was _born._ That's his entire adult life! Fuck... wow. Yeah, his entire adult life.... That's weird, right?

He sighs, staring into his mug of cocoa, and beside him, Madhavi nudges him with her elbow. "Gabe, man," she says, and he glances up to see her rolling her eyes at him, "quit _sighin'._ You're gonna make Simon cry."

"I'm not gonna _cry,_ Madhavi," Simon, Madhavi's partner and also a man Gabe briefly remembers meeting at the Halloween party as Mr. Moore, says from her other side. "I don't know why you keep using me as leverage! I'm having a wonderful time."

"No you're _not,"_ she says, turning away from Gabe to poke Simon in the ribs. "You're havin' a _terrible_ time, an' it's a hundred percent 'cause ol' grumpy here won't stop sighin'!"

"I'm not _grumpy,"_ Gabe protests. _"Moody,_ maybe, but can you _blame_ me?"

"No," says Simon, at the same time that Madhavi says "Yep."

He snorts, can't help but be amused. Lola had invited him over to celebrate Christmas, since he didn't have Georgie here--though, she probably would have invited him over whether Georgie was here or not--and he'd been surprised to see both Madhavi and Simon here as well. Of course, he'd _known_ that Madhavi and Lola were friends--they'd both mentioned the other in previous conversations, and both their names are uncommon enough that it was a simple thing to connect the two--but he hadn't known that the _Simon_ Madhavi mentioned often was also the _Mr. Moore_ from the elementary school. 

Kai's here too, of course; he and Lola are fairly recently married, and the chances of either of them leaving town without the other in their first couple Christmases together would be pretty weird. Gabe's also finally had the chance to meet Sam, the kid Lola and Kai are fostering. They'd both mentioned Sam a few times, of course; apparently they're pretty shy and standoffish, so he hasn't had the chance to meet them until now.

All in all, it's a pretty big and colorful group for Christmas, and if only Gabe didn't miss Georgie _so much,_ he'd be having a blast!

"Ooh," Lola calls from the kitchen, "the cookies are done! Who wants fresh cookies? They're only a _little_ burnt this time!"

"Sorry," Gabe hears Kai say softly from the same direction. "Lost track'a time."

"Hell yeah," Madhavi says, getting to her feet. She wraps one hand around Simon's forearm and pulls him up, too, leaving Gabe alone on the couch.

He snorts again, tilting his head back and swallowing the rest of his cocoa before getting up to follow them both into the kitchen. Slightly burnt cookies and good company are much better than sitting around with nothing but the Christmas tree for company.

The kitchen's just as cheery as the rest of the house, with bright strings of lights stretched between the cabinets overhead and shining garland tacked up everywhere the strings aren't already taking up space. It's homey, and pretty; Gabe likes it a lot. He makes a mental note to ask Lola to help him decorate the diner for any upcoming holidays.

Standing up with everyone in the brightly-lit kitchen is a lot different from sitting in the living room with everyone. Gabe's never considered himself to be short, really; he's a little above average at five-foot-ten, and that's always suited him nicely. However, with Madhavi and Simon on one side of him and Lola and Kai on the other, he feels _dwarfed._ They're all at least three inches taller than he is, and it's _strange._ The only person he's taller than is Sam, who's maybe a foot or so shorter than he is, and about twelve years younger. They're also standing off in a corner of the kitchen by themself, eating a cookie and doing their best to ignore everyone else.

"What do you think, Gabe?" Lola asks, drawing Gabe's attention back to her. She's holding a baking sheet of sugar cookies out to him, and he peers closely at them.

They're all cut into Christmassy shapes; trees and stockings, stars, that sort of thing, and they're a little darker around the edges than they really should be, but they're _much_ better than the blackened, smoking mess that she and Kai had made earlier.

He nods and gives her a thumbs-up. "Think these ones are perfect," he says.

"Oh, _perfect!"_ Lola says, smiling sweetly at him. She sets the tray down on the kitchen island and takes her oven mitts off. "Then all we have to do now is decorate them! Sam, do you--"

"Nope," says the teenager, abruptly pushing past Simon to get to the door. "I'm goin' to my room."

"Oh." Lola watches them go, her lips turned down slightly, and then she shakes her head and looks at Gabe with another, somewhat more subdued, smile. "Well. I'll just take them one later. Now, Mr. Chef, why don't you take the lead here?"

"Oh, sure," Gabe says, feeling a little awkward. He wonders if Sam's okay, if this is just part of being a teenager _(was_ he _so dismissive when he was 15? Is_ Georgie _going to act like that when_ she's _fifteen?)_ , or if it's just Sam's personality in general. Whatever the problem is, Gabe can only hope Lola can deal with the dismissal alright.

He shakes off the feelings and picks up a tube of glittery red icing. "Okay," he says, "let's get to decoratin'..."

\-----

"Oh, Stef, you look _so_ nice," their mother coos as Stef steps into the living room. They smile at her, glad to know their decision to pack only their work clothes was a good move. If they were at home, they'd probably be wearing a glittery sweater, shiny enough to rival any of their mom's Christmas ornaments, but since they're here, they've toned it down quite a bit. A nice white button-up with black pants. It's something they wear pretty often at the school, when they do their best to keep it professional.

A Christmas party with your family shouldn't be a _professional_ occasion, they think to themself, but they quickly tamp the thought down. "Thanks, mom!" they give her a hug, the soft scent of her perfume washing over them.

"Mornin'," Marco says, and Stef feels the slight breeze against their back as he passes by them. They release their mother and turn toward Marco as he plops himself down on the couch, at the opposite end from their father. Relief washes through them; it's so much easier to deal with their parents when Marco's here, too.

"Morning, Marco!" their dad says cheerily, setting his tablet aside and leaning closer to Marco. Marco, who's got his phone out, props his elbow up on the arm of the couch and angles himself away from their dad "Who ya textin' so early in the morning?"

"Dante," comes Marco's curt reply.

"Dante! Right, that's your fiance, ain't it?" Their dad settles himself back down. "When do I get to meet this guy, huh? Soon, I hope!"

Marco just grunts, not bothering to respond, and Stef feels their relief replaced by a cold dread in the pit of their stomach.

"Well!" Their mother clears her throat, and Stef pulls their gaze away from the couch to look over at her again. "Let's get to those presents, shall we?"

"Yeah!" Stef scrambles to the tree to help her gather up gifts. Hopefully this'll diffuse the tension, and they'll be able to salvage the morning. They pick out a shiny gold gift bag and a sloppily-wrapped box, addressed to their dad and Marco respectively. 

"Thanks for your help, sweetie," their mom says, reaching over to pat their cheek with a smile. Stef returns it, the knot of dread loosening in their stomach, and carries the packages over to the couch for delivery. 

"Merry Christmas, everybody!" they say, beaming at Marco as he sets his phone aside and reaches for the box. "Looks like Santa's been pretty dang generous this year, huh?"

_"Santa,_ nothing!" their mom says, handing a similar box to Stef. "I'll have you know that I worked _very hard_ to get all these gifts wrapped! Santa seems to think he's too good to stop here and help out." She sniffs haughtily, and Stef laughs, settling themself into an armchair to open their gift.

"You'd think that with all those cookies and carrots we left him and his reindeer in our youth, he'd make it a point to stop by every now and then," Stef teases. They open the box to reveal a T-shirt, not unlike one they'd have worn in their aforementioned youth, but that just doesn't fit their style (either their professional _or_ everyday look) anymore. Still, they smile and thank both of their parents. They're sure they can regift it to a friend, and eventually it'll find a nice home. They fold it back into the box.

The morning continues in much the same vein, with Marco and Stef both receiving gifts that aren't quite a good fit for either of them (though Stef knows for a _fact_ that Manami will love the drill bit set their father's gifted them).

By the time all the presents are opened and the wrapping paper's been gathered up and stuffed in a garbage bag, the air seems much cheerier than it had when they'd started. Even Marco seems pretty happy; he's not exactly _smiling,_ because Marco's smiles are rare anyway, but his expression is soft, his shoulders relaxed. This might be the best Christmas they've had in a _decade._

And then, of course, their dad has to go and open his stupid mouth and _ruin_ it.

"Glad you're not mopin' around so much this time," he says to Marco. "Always such a downer to see all the nice ornaments an' then your sulking self." He laughs, and Marco tenses, and Stef's fighting the urge to _lash out_ at their dad.

"Don't say that!" they bite out, fingernails digging into their palms. "He wasn't _moping,_ that's such a stupid--!" they cut themself off, willing themself to relax, to not cause a _scene._ "He's doing a lot better, okay?"

Marco shoots them a look, caught somewhere between grateful and annoyed. Stef shrugs at him, unsure of what else to say.

Their dad turns to Stef now, jaw tighter than before. "Now, now," he says, obviously trying for a lighter tone, "there's no need to get so _defensive,_ Stef. I'm just sayin'."

Stef bites back a retort. Marco's depression isn't something to make light of! He's suffered a lot and is just _finally_ starting to get better. If their dad said something that set Marco back in his recovery, Stef would... would... 

Well, they don't know _what_ they'd do, but they'd do whatever it took to help Marco back on his feet again.

"Well!" their mom says, standing up from her own armchair. "Now that we're done with gifts, how about some treats? I made some cookies last night after you three went to bed. Chocolate chip!"

"Sure, that sounds great, Mom," Stef says, grateful for the change in subject. The mention of chocolate chip cookies makes them think of Gabe and the tin of cookies he'd given them, which they and Marco had pretty much decimated on the drive over.

She reaches out and pats their cheek again on her way to the kitchen, and Stef relaxes. 

"Oh, it's so _nice_ to have my boys back home again," she says fondly as she steps back into the living room, and _oh,_ there it is again, that horrible icy feeling lancing through their body. _Every time._ Every time they think things are going well, they're just reminded all over again that their parents don't-- that they just don't--!

"Stef's not a _boy,_ mom," Marco snaps, unfolding his long limbs to sit up ramrod straight and glare at her. "They're _nonbinary,_ and you damn well _know_ that."

"Now, don't you speak to your mother like that!" their dad scolds, and, no, _oh no,_ there's no diffusing the situation _this time._

"I'll speak to her however I need to to make her _remember_ it an' stop _misgendering_ Stef!" Marco says.

"If your brother cares so much about what we call 'im, then let _him_ say it!"

Stef wants to leave. They don't want to _be here_ anymore, don't want to _listen_ to this.

"Knock it the fuck _off,_ you're only doin' that 'cause you _know_ it hurts them!" 

"Your sex ain't somethin' you can just _change,_ boy, your brother is--"

Marco stands abruptly, and Stef's brain can't seem to move fast enough to figure out what he's doing, too busy trying to keep themself sitting rigid in their chair, desperate to keep the situation from getting worse.

But Marco's gone before they can really register it, the room falling into an uneasy quiet as their father grumbles under his breath and their mother gently sets a plate of cookies on the table.

He's back as suddenly as he'd vanished, and Stef's only aware of the fact when they hear their mother exclaim, "Marco, are you leaving?"

Stef forces their muscles to work, their head to turn, and they spot Marco in the doorway, both their bags clutched in his arms. His eyes are _burning._

"Yeah," he says. "Right now. C'mon, Stef."

And there's nothing Stef wants _more_ than to leave, but if they leave like _this,_ in the middle of _Christmas,_ what will their parents think?! 

No, it doesn't matter what they think. Their parents don't....

"Now, don't be like that, boy," their father says gruffly. "Sit down, eat the damn cookies your mother made, and get _over_ yourselves."

"No," Marco says, forcing the words through gritted teeth. "You don't _care._ You've never cared about Stef or about me, not really, and you _know_ that. If you did, you'd at least _try_ to get their pronouns right. You'd accept 'em for who they are instead of makin' 'em feel like they gotta hide everything about themself an' let you walk all over 'em every time they see you!"

"We--" says their mom, eyes wide. 

Marco cuts her off. "I didn't even wanna _come,_ I only came so they wouldn't have to be stuck with you _alone,_ and God knows how many times they've had to deal with you and other bigoted assholes alone when they were dealin' with _me."_

"Marco," Stef mutters, some of the ice melting from their limbs, because he doesn't have to bring _that_ up just to get under their parents' skin.

"I was _clinically depressed,"_ Marco says, ignoring Stef, "I still _am_ , and you _don't care._ If Stef hadn't taken me in when they did, gotten me away from _you_ as soon as they could, I'd be _dead._ And you don't care!"

"Marco," their mom says, looking stricken. Stef wonders vaguely if it's a real reaction, or just an act. How much of her has always been an act? "Marco, of _course_ we care. You--"

"No." Marco cuts her off again, and he's _seething._ "We're _happy_ now. Stef has a job they love, friends who _respect_ them. I'm finally _living_ my fucking life, instead'a wasting it in a fucking dark cloud, I've got a _fiance_ , I'm happy for the first time in a _decade_ , and you're _not_ gonna change that by making _my sibling_ feel like shit. C'mon, Stef, let's go."

Stef doesn't argue. They don't _want_ to argue. They stand, close that short distance between them, pick up their bag and follow Marco out the door. They leave behind the gifts from their parents; they don't need them. They don't particularly _want_ them. 

"Marco!" their mom calls from the doorway. "Stef! Come back, don't leave like this!"

"Let 'em go, Maria," their dad says, voice gruff and cold. "Don't need 'em around if they're gonna be ungrateful little--"

_"Stan,"_ their mother says, and it's the last thing Stef hears before they shut the car door.

They lean forward, pressing their forehead against the top of the steering wheel, and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. That's it, then. They're done. They're not giving their parents another chance to fuck it up and hurt them, hurt _Marco_ . This was _it._

They sit back up, twisting to face their brother. They're surprised by how light they feel. They grin at him, and he smiles back, lip curling upward toward his ear.

"Let's go home, baby bro," Stef says, and steps on the gas.

  
  


**Monday, December 30.**

Stef bounces up the stairs, Marco trailing behind them, and pounds on the front door of the apartment. From inside, they hear the unmistakable sound of wheels against floorboards, followed by the lock clicking.

The door swings open, and Stef comes face to face with Shaw, all decked out in blue and white, complete with a Hanukkah sweater featuring twin dreidels stating _"they see me rollin'."_

"Steffie baby!" Shaw exclaims, throwing aer arms around Stef's neck and holding on tight. 

Stef laughs, wrapping their own arms around aer waist. "Hey, Show Pony," they say. "Happy Hanukkah!"

"Thank you, darling, it's _so_ good to see you!" Shaw releases them, giving them a wide grin before repeating the gesture with Marco.

Stef pushes past Shaw and into the apartment, which is... less exciting than Stef had hoped it would be. Of course, they weren't expecting Shaw to go _all out_ with the decorations, since ae'd just gotten home last night and it's not really a Hanukkah _party_ so much as an _intimate get-together between friends,_ but it's just _strange_ to be spending the last night of Hanukkah with Shaw and see just a few shiny blue and silver bits and baubles around the menorah. When they all lived together, Shaw would always cover the house in decorations, so much so that, those years when Hanukkah and Christmas coincided, the decorations for either holiday seemed to be fighting for wall space.

But, they remind themself, tamping down the hollow threatening to form in their chest, Shaw's been out of town, spending the majority of the holiday with aer mom on the other side of the country. Of _course_ the apartment's not gonna be normal Shaw-levels of decorated!

"Is there food yet?" Marco asks as he, too, enters the apartment. Stef turns to face him and sees him tuck his phone into the pocket of his hoodie; they wonder if he's just been texting Dante again, or if he's been messing around with Tick Tock or whatever that app is called.

Shaw snorts, closing the door behind the both of them. "As if I'd invite the two of _you_ over without having food? Picked up some doughnuts this mornin', they're on the counter. Help yourself!"

Marco makes a beeline for the kitchen, and Stef goes back over to Shaw, putting their arm around aer shoulders. Shaw leans against them. 

"I am _so_ tired," ae groans, putting aer arm around their waist and tugging them over to the couch. "Forgive me for not bein' the best host today. I _hate_ flyin'." Ae nudges Stef until they take a seat on the couch, and then drops down beside them, laying aer head in their lap and putting aer feet up on the arm of the couch, skates and all. 

Stef combs their fingers through Shaw's hair with one hand and reaches over to pat aer belly with the other. Ae makes a sound halfway between a purr and a moan, so they figure it's a welcome gesture. "Sorry," they say. "Didja have fun though? How's Stella doin'?"

"Mom's doin' pretty great," Shaw says. "Be nice if she still lived closer, but she's got enough friends an' shit over there that I'm not too worried about 'er." Ae lets aer eyes fall closed with a sigh. "We had a good time, yeah. It was nice to have more than just a day or two with 'er."

Marco reappears then, balancing a plate of jelly doughnuts in one hand as he settles into the remaining space between Stef and the other side of the couch. "Should have 'er come out this way next year," he says, offering the plate to Stef. Stef shifts their hand from Shaw's stomach and passes a doughnut to aer before taking one for themself.

"Maybe," Shaw says, taking a bite. Aer eyes are still closed. "But," ae continues through aer mouthful, "she doesn't like to travel either, an' since it's just the two of us either way, it's just easier to go to her."

"If she wanted to come this way," Stef says, "we'd celebrate with you guys! Every night, if ya want." 

Shaw cracks one eye open. "Maybe," ae says, and then sighs and sits up, dropping aer feet to the floor with a _clunk_ and twisting around to lean against the back of the couch. Ae crams the rest of the doughnut into aer mouth, getting powdered sugar on aer sweater. "Whatever, this is turnin' into a real downer of a shindig. Hanukkah is _not_ fun if we're all just layin' around on the couch eatin' _doughnuts!"_ Ae stands up and skates over to the table where the menorah is set up and picks up a glass bowl full of what Stef knows to be gold-wrapped chocolate coins. "Who's gonna win the pot this year? Well, clearly that will be _me,_ of course, but who's gonna come _closest_ to beating me?"

Stef laughs, scooting forward on the couch until their knees bump the coffee table in front of them. "You're always so confident. We both know I'm the best dreidel player!"

Marco snorts, also scooting forward, but his eyes are on his phone now, the thumb of the hand _not_ occupied in holding a plate of doughnuts _tap-tap-tapping_ against the screen. "You two act like it's a game'a skill or somethin'," he says. 

"Aren't _all_ games a game of skill?" Shaw asks, setting the bowl and the little wooden dreidel on the coffee table. "I mean, if you really think about it."

"It's not like you can _strategize_ which way it's gonna land," he says. "It's just luck."

"You only say that 'cause you know Shaw an' I're both better than you." Stef teases, and Marco looks up sharply. He rolls his eyes.

"I'm not gettin' into an argument about who's the best at dreidel," he says. "You do this every year."

Shaw settles back into aer seat on the couch. "And this year, you're competing too." Ae picks up the dreidel. "So, while we wait for the sun to go down, let's see who's the best!"

\-----

Marco smirks smugly at Stef as he unwraps what _has_ to be his tenth chocolate coin. "Guess you were right," he says. "It _is_ a game of skill."

_"Dang_ it, Marco!" Stef falls sideways into Shaw's lap. "Shut _up!"_

Shaw laughs, patting Stef's cheek. "Thanks for comin' over, you two."

Stef smiles, and closes their eyes. Even if their parents are garbage, at least they know they can always celebrate with their real family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for tossing some tough subjects at you, but i hope the cute hanukkah scene and all the stuff preceding the Christmas Fiasco made up for it!  
> i've been so excited to finally drop dante in here for more than just a few lines, and confirm a few things that had sort of just been hinted at before this!
> 
> thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment! i'd love to know your thoughts! 💖  
> you can also message me on tumblr [@enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/)! i'm currently on a social media break, so i won't be replying to anything on tumblr until that's over, but rest assured i WILL reply to everything!


	6. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello, i hope you're all doing okay today! take this 12k chapter to focus on for a little bit if you need a respite. 💖
> 
> as always, HUUUUGE thank you to my friend [pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this! ✨💖✨
> 
> please enjoy!! 😘

**Wednesday, January 1.**

Stef wakes up with a splitting headache, the cheery chirping of their phone inspiring a rage in them that they're not sure they've ever felt. 

They pick up their phone, squinting at the screen with bleary eyes, and manage to unlock it after just four tries. They shut the alarm off and collapse back against their pillows in the blessed silence.

_Frick._ New Year's day is always awful. They're glad it's during winter break, but also... they wouldn't have to deal with a hangover if it _wasn't_ during winter break, because they wouldn't have gone to a New Year’s Eve party the night before. 

Whatever. It was fun; they went over to Simon's place and hung out with him and Madhavi. That's technically a party, right? If there were only three of them? Whatever, yeah, that's totally a party.

Sitting on a couch with your friend and his queerplatonic partner drinking cheap champagne and eating leftover Christmas cookies is a _good_ party, too! As evidenced by their hangover. Always a sign of a good party.

They sigh and roll over, burying their face in their pillow and blocking out the light filtering in through the blinds. Once upon a time, they'd have counted a night like that as a complete and utter failure. No loud music, no dancing, no makeout sessions with strangers in some dark corner. And they _definitely_ wouldn't have woken up with such an awful hangover!

Darn it, they're getting _old._

When was the last time they'd even been at an _actual_ party? Ugh, they can't _think._ Their head is pounding, their throat is burning for a drink of water. When did they get so _old?_

They crawl out of bed and stagger to their bathroom, filling a glass with water and quickly downing it before scrabbling through their medicine cabinet for the painkillers. Could they even _handle_ an _actual_ party if they went to one?

They think back to their college days, when they and Shaw would hit house parties every weekend, if not every night. They miss those days, the wild and crazy nights spent living their _life._ Now they have, what? Four friends? Ugh. Four friends, and they're all (reasonably) responsible adults!

Ugh!

They down the meds with another glass of water. Stupid hangover. Stupid cheap champagne.

\-----

Gabe wakes up feeling refreshed, if a little lonely. After twenty seven new years, he's less inclined to want to stay up into the wee hours of the morning just to welcome it, when he can do that just as easily at six AM. 

When he lived in Oregon, he and Georgie and Damien, Jason, and a few of their friends would stay up past midnight in celebration. It had been fun, of course, but he'd always regretted it the next morning when he'd had to go to work early. 

If Georgie was here with him this year, he'd probably be operating on five or six hours of sleep right now, but apparently the one pro amid all the cons of Georgie visiting her dad and grandparents over the holidays is that Gabe can get a decent sleep.

He's not expecting too many people to come into the diner until later in the day, but he's still got a lot of prep work to do, and he's sure there's _some_ people who'll come in desperate for coffee or pancakes.

Gabe hums to himself while he works in the kitchen. It's gonna be a good day, he thinks to himself. And Georgie will be back in just a few days!

**Saturday, January 4.**

"Quit your bouncin'," Shaw says from somewhere around his right shoulder, and Gabe glances over to find aer watching him, aer lips quirked into a half-smile and one eyebrow cocked in amusement. "You're gonna scare off all the customers, Gabey!"

He huffs and rolls his eyes, hiding his own smile by turning back to the window. "I'm not _bouncing,"_ he says. "I'm standing perfectly still!" 

"You can be standin' as still as you like an' people are still gonna know you're bouncin' on the inside," Shaw chuckles. "Look, they'll be here soon enough. Why don't you go back into the kitchen an' I'll come getcha when they get here?"

He sighs. "I'm just excited to see her," he says. Shaw laughs, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course you are. Who wouldn't be? She's the cutest kid I've ever seen! But you're gonna go crazy starin' out at the parkin' lot!" 

"You're the one who keeps trying to get me to take a break!" Gabe grumbles, and Shaw laughs again.

"This ain't a _break,_ sugar. Why don't you sit down, and I'll bring ya out a cup'a coffee while you wait?"

He sighs, smiling ruefully at aer. "I guess I _could_ go for a caffeine boost," he says, and no sooner are the words out of his mouth than he catches a glint in the corner of his eye. 

He snaps his head back around toward the parking lot, and _yes!_ There's Damien's car, pulling in from the road.

"Never mind!" he cries, pulling away from Shaw and dashing toward the door. "bye, Shaw!"

"At least take your _apron_ off!" Shaw calls after him, but the door swings shut before he can even think to reply.

Gabe unties his apron as he hurries across the parking lot, draping it over his arm. The passenger side door opens, and _there she is!_

"Daddy!" Georgie cries, opening her arms and running at him. He picks her up in a tight embrace, swinging her up to bury his face in her shoulder.

_God,_ he'd missed her.

"Georgie," he says, pulling back to grin at her. "Did you have a good time? I love you! Were you good for your dad and Jason? How were your grandparents? Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat before we go. Do you--"

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa,"_ chuckles Damien, and Gabe looks over to see him leaning against the hood of the car, a smirk solidly in place. "Seems like you went a little crazy without the munchkin around, huh?"

Gabe feels a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck, but it quickly dissipates. He gently sets Georgie back on her feet and turns to Damien. "She keeps me sane," he says with a grin.

The two of them stare at each other for a long moment, and then Damien tips his head back and laughs. "Good to know our baby girl's always your number one," he says, and Gabe closes the distance between them to pull him into an embrace.

"Good to see you again," he says softly. "How were your holidays?"

Damien opens his mouth to reply once Gabe draws back, but he's interrupted by Georgie enthusiastically tugging on the hem of Gabe's shirt. 

"Can we go get ice cream this mornin'?" she asks, clutching a Christmas-patterned gift bag in her other hand. "I wanna show Dad the ice cream parlor!"

Gabe snorts, reaching down to ruffle her hair. "Think it's a little early for ice cream, kiddo. Why don't we go put your stuff in the house, and then we can all go and get doughnuts instead?"

"Yeah!" Georgie bounces on her toes, immediately turning and racing for the house.

Damien laughs again, pulling away from Gabe to open the trunk of the car. "That kid couldn'ta gotten more than five hours of sleep," he says. "I don't know _how_ she's got all that energy!"

"That's because you're old, Dami." Gabe follows him, pulling out Georgie's little suitcase and surveying the rest of the contents of the trunk. "Damn. Is this all Georgie's?" The trunk is _stuffed_ with boxes and bags, some of them plain brown paper or cardboard, but most of them decorated in red or green, copious amounts of glitter flaking off and onto everything else.

"You're older than I am!" Damien protests, hefting a couple of boxes into his arms. "There's not as much as it looks like. She just didn't wanna leave all the packaging at home," he chuckles. "But there's still a lot! Jason an' I spoiled the _hell_ outta her this year, and your parents were no better."

Gabe stifles a groan, sliding the handles of a couple of gift bags onto his wrist and shutting the trunk with his elbow. He's glad Georgie has so many people looking out for her and buying her nice things, but their house is _so tiny,_ and he doesn't know what any of these things _are_ or where he'll _put_ them!

Damien snorts, nudging him with his hip. "It's _fine,_ Gabe," he says. "No garbage or anythin', promise." He pauses. "Well, your mom _did_ get her a little perfume set she's _definitely_ not gonna use, but it's small and won't take up too much room while it gathers dust for years 'til you throw it out. Now c'mon, show me the new house! I didn't get to see it last time!"

Gabe sighs, but his heart feels lighter. "Sure thing, Dami. C'mon."

\-----

It's a nice day today, Stef thinks to themself for the umpteenth time as they walk along the path. It's still January, of course, so they've got a jacket on over their shirt and a scarf wrapped loosely around their neck, but the sun's out and there's no icy wind to ruffle their hair and send them scurrying back inside. This is either a short winter, or a nice little lull in the colder weather, and either way Stef plans to take advantage of it. 

Winter break's already half over, so they plan on enjoying _every_ nice day they can before they're trapped in the classroom for hours a day again.

It seems like there's plenty of other people with the same line of thought here today. Plenty of people are out jogging, or walking their dogs. The playground's host to more than a few kids, shrieking and giggling as they clamber over the jungle gyms. There's a few kids Stef recognizes as former students hanging out along the woodline. 

It's a nice day!

Stef smiles to themself, tugging their scarf up to cover their nose, when they spot a familiar face and nearly stop in their tracks.

That's _Gabe Martín_ sitting on that bench over there!

What the heck is _Gabe_ doing at the park on a Saturday afternoon? Isn't this one of those times the diner gets really busy? Stef shakes their head. He's gotta be on break right now, anyway. Right?

They step off the path and make their way across the grass to him. He doesn't look up until they're almost _on top_ of him (and oh no, the images that phrase puts in their mind are _not_ appropriate!), but he does look up, and he grins once he recognizes them.

"Stef!" he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, and Stef can't help the little leap their heart makes in their chest. "I didn't expect to see you here today!"

He scoots over on the bench, though he hadn't been taking up much room anyway, and pats the spot next to him. Stef sits, feeling strangely giddy. 

"Just out for a stroll while the weather's nice," they say. "What are _you_ doing out here? Is Georgie back home?"

Gabe nods, inclining his head toward the playground. Stef follows the gesture to see Georgie on the swingset, being pushed by someone Stef's never seen before. "Her dad brought her back today!" he says, sounding absolutely _delighted._ "We've been showing him around the town all morning."

Stef zeroes in on the guy as soon as the word _"dad"_ leaves Gabe's mouth. He's too far away for Stef to really make out any details, and facing away from them, but they can see the dark skin of his hands, the tight black curls on his head. He looks to be about average height, and he's wearing a denim jacket with colorful patches on the sleeves. "Oh dang, that's your ex? Damien, right?"

"Yeah." Stef can hear the smile in his voice, and they glance at him out of the corner of their eye. He sounds so dang _happy_ about his ex-husband being here. Could he still have feelings for him? That would suck for Stef; they have no interest in being a rebound.

Not that they're actually gonna _date_ him or anything! Nope!

"...staying the night and heading back tomorrow," Gabe's saying when Stef zones back in. "Jason couldn't make it, I guess, but that's okay. It's been nice to see him again."

"Who's Jason?" Stef asks before they can stop themself. They feel their face heat slightly when Gabe turns to face them more fully.

"Damien's husband," Gabe says. "Georgie's stepdad. We'd hoped he could spend some time in town, too, but he had to work this weekend."

"Oh," says Stef. So Damien was already remarried.... Maybe that's why they split up? Damien had fallen for this Jason guy and left Gabe? "When did the two of you, er, divorce?" They know they're not being _professional,_ but they think they're close enough to Gabe now that they can ask questions like this.

They hope they are, anyway.

Gabe thinks a moment. "Five years ago?" he replies, lips tugging down into a slight frown. "Georgie was four, I think. Or maybe she was five." He sighs and shakes his head. "Anyway, it was a few years ago."

"That long ago?" Stef blinks. "I thought you said this was Georgie's first year away from the rest of the family?" And Gabe's around the same age they are, putting him at 27, maybe 28. It seems weird to think of him as a divorcee at 22.

"It is," Gabe says, and he looks back over at Georgie and Damien. "When Dami and I broke up, we still lived really close by. It made it easier on Georgie, you know?"

"Wasn't that hard for you, though? Seeing your ex all the time?"

Gabe snorts. "No, no. It was a good split. Damien and I are good friends still. He's my best friend, honestly."

Stef tilts their head, watching him. "Lucky for you," they say. "So it wasn't tough? Fallin' out of love or whatever?"

He gives a quick, low laugh. "Nah. We were never really _in love,_ honestly. We've always just been friends."

Okay, now Stef's just _confused._ Who marries a friend? Well, aside from Simon and Madhavi, but they're _queerplatonic,_ not _"just friends."_ They must be making a weird face or something, because Gabe looks over at them and laughs again.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, shaking his head. "That probably doesn't make a lot of sense. Uh, so Dami and I were friends in high school, yeah?"

"Okay." Looks like Stef's about to unlock Gabe's backstory. Heck yes! 

"Right, you know how it is. Queer kids flock together and all that." Gabe settles against the back of the bench, tilting his head back to look up at the clear blue sky. Stef doesn't let their eyes leave his face. "We were pretty much the only kids out at the school, and everyone kinda thought we were dating, so senior year, we thought, _'why not?'_ We figured out pretty quick that we, uh, didn't work in a romantic sense. So we broke up after just a couple weeks, stuck to being friends."

"...Okay." Stef's not quite sure how they got from _breaking up_ to _getting married and raising a kid together._

"Well, uh, a couple months later, we found out that Damien was pregnant."

Stef blinks. "Oh," they say. _"Oh."_

"Yeah." Gabe shoots a sheepish smile at them. "We, uh, maybe weren't as careful as we coulda been. I mean, we were _kids,_ you know? Queer kids. Sex ed's not that great, and it was even worse a decade ago."

"No," Stef says. "I mean, yeah, I get that." They clear their throat. "So, uh, you got married?"

"Yeah." Stef hadn't realized until now that they'd both moved, their bodies angled toward each other, knees touching. They aren't sure if they should move away or not, but they find that they like it, their heart beating faster in their chest as Gabe meets their eye. "As soon as we graduated, we got married. Think it was probably the best option at the time, and, you know. Damien was my best friend, I didn't wanna leave him to raise a kid by himself."

"I understand," Stef says. They feel like they're seeing Gabe in a whole new light, though nothing's really changed; he's a good guy, and a great dad. That's not news. Still, there's something warm blooming in their chest.

Gabe nods, reaching up to toy with one of his curls before tucking it behind his ear. "Yeah. And so... we were married. And Georgie was born. It was tough, raising her. We were kids, you know? We managed, obviously; my parents helped out, enough that I was able to go to college and get a job without worrying too much about the two of 'em. But when Georgie was old enough that she didn't need someone looking after her _all_ the time, we kinda... decided to go our separate ways."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. I mean," Gabe adds hastily, "we didn't just _get divorced_ on a whim. We talked about it for a while, decided it was best for both of us. It's kinda hard to get a date when you've got a husband, you know?" He chuckles. "Anyway, there were no hard feelings or anything, and Damien met Jason about a year later, so I think everything worked out in the end."

"You two talkin' 'bout me over here?" 

Stef jerks their head up to see Damien standing in front of them, one hand resting on his hip and one eyebrow cocked. Up close, Stef can see that he has several piercings: snakebites, a septum piercing, both ears, and one eyebrow. He's nowhere _near_ as decked out as Marco was, but it's enough to startle them.

"Dami, this is Stef," Gabe says. "My friend--"

"Oh, so _you're_ the Stef Gabe won't shut up about!" Damien says, face lighting up with a big grin. "Also known as the Mx. Campbell the munchkin talks so highly of. Good to meet ya!"

"Likewise," Stef says, blinking as they accept the outstretched hand Damien offers them. They're still trying to process the _Gabe not shutting up about them_ thing. 

"You ready to head out?" he asks Gabe, turning toward him. "Georgie keeps askin' for ice cream, ha. You'd think the kid was _starvin'_ with how she keeps goin' on!"

Damien and Gabe fall into conversation, and Stef lets their gaze drop from his face to his jacket; they can't help but admire all the patches he's got. Most of the patches look handmade, with symbols or phrases painted onto scraps of fabric. There's a rainbow flag patch, too, overlapped by a trans pride patch. It's cool as heck, honestly; if Stef was more into punky fashion, they'd _love_ a personalized jacket like this one.

"...headin' out," Gabe says, and Stef shakes themself, turning toward him again. He's got an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry we couldn't talk longer. Are you gonna stop by the diner again sometime soon?" He seems hopeful as he asks.

Stef grins at him. "I couldn't stay away if I tried," they answer honestly, and he beams at them before standing up.

They watch the two of them go, Georgie catching up to them as they disappear down the path. 

These pesky feelings aren't going away anytime soon, are they?

\-----

"So," Damien says later that evening, as Gabe hands him a stack of blankets over the back of the couch, "that was Stef, huh? They're pretty damn cute." 

Gabe feels himself flush, but he doesn't try to deny it. Stef _is_ cute. "That was Stef," he confirms.

Damien grins, tilting his head back far enough that Gabe can see up his nostrils. "You gonna go for it, then?" he asks. "Gonna finally get yourself back out there?"

Gabe rolls his eyes, pushing away from the couch to head into the tiny kitchen. "I _have_ put myself back out there," he says. "I've dated!"

"Yeah, but nothing _serious."_ He can see Damien pull himself up to prop his elbows on the back of the couch, watching him. He sticks his tongue out at Damien, prompting a laugh. "You know I'm right!"

He sighs, turning the kettle on and leaning against the counter. Again, he doesn't deny Damien's words. He really hasn't dated much since the divorce, choosing instead to focus on Georgie and on his career, but, well... Georgie's older now, doesn't need the constant attention she once did. Things at the diner are doing great, and he's got a good staff that can handle things for him. He has time to dedicate to dating, if he so chooses, and... Well.

He's completely aware of his attraction to Stef.

Gabe groans, then sighs, pushing his hair away from his face. "It's complicated, you know?"

"What's complicated about it?" Damien asks.

"I mean... They're Georgie's _teacher,_ you know? Isn't there some... _law,_ or social _thing_ against that kind of thing?"

Dami snorts. "Since when have _you,_ Gabriel Martín, cared about _'social things?'_ "

He groans again. "I _don't._ I just..." He lowers his voice. Georgie's in the bath, and he doesn't _think_ she can hear the conversation, but if there's any chance she _could,_ well. He wants to avoid that. "I mean, I don't know how _Georgie_ would react to it. You know, a... a new _person_ in her life, and all that."

"Gabe," Damien says, monotone, and Gabe looks over to see him giving him his best _disappointed dad_ look. It's not that intimidating, but it _does_ make Gabe feel a certain amount of dread in the pit of his stomach. "I'm literally _married."_

"And I'm happy for you."

"Shut _up,_ Gabe!" Damien rolls his eyes. "Look, you're obviously just makin' excuses not to do this. But, hell! You like this Stef, right?"

"Well, yeah. I--"

"As in _not entirely in a friend way."_

He sighs again, reaching up and fiddling with a lock of his hair. Damn Damien and his hopeless romantic self. "Yeah, yes, okay, I'm pretty sure I _do._ But, Damien, it's--"

"Look, Gabe, I'm not sayin' you've _got_ to ask 'em out," Damien says, tone and expression serious. "I'm just sayin', don't make _excuses_ for not doin' it. You deserve to have your own love story, ya know?"

"I know." Gabe shakes his head, letting his curls fall back into his face. "I don't wanna jump into a relationship. I'll... wait a little longer. I wanna be _sure_ I'm making the right decision before I start seeing _anybody._ It's not the same as when you started dating Jason, you know? Georgie's older now, more _aware_ of things. She doesn't have the big family to fall back on if she gets emotionally invested in someone who doesn't end up working out for both of us. I just... I gotta _think_ about it, you know?"

Damien's silent for a long moment, and then he nods. "Okay. I get it. You're probably right."

Gabe gives him a little, half-hearted smirk. _"'Probably,'_ " he teases. "You know I'm right." 

The kettle starts whistling then, and Gabe scrambles to turn it off and pull three mugs from the cupboard.

As he fixes two cups of tea and one of hot cocoa, Damien says, quietly, "You're a good parent, Gabe. One of the best."

Gabe smiles at him, feeling himself flush again. "Thanks, Dami. So are you."

**Friday, January 10.**

"I can't believe school starts up again on _Monday,"_ Stef groans into their plate of fries. "Feels like the break just _started,_ and now it's _over."_

Gabe chuckles across the table from them, his foot kicking out to gently tap Stef's shin. "I thought you liked your job," he says, and they can hear the teasing in his voice. "And last week you said you were _bored_ and couldn't _wait_ to get back to your normal schedule." 

"I _know,"_ Stef groans again, straightening up and lifting their head to look at him. He's got his elbow propped on the table, his chin propped in his hand. Stef wonders briefly if he likes the feeling of his own stubble on his hand, wonders if it's as scratchy as it looks, or if it's soft-- and then they mentally shake themself. They have _got_ to stop thirsting after Gabe like this! Or at least stop being so _pathetic_ about it. "I know," they say again. "But now I'm thinkin' about being stuck in a classroom for six hours a day and remembering how much that _sucks_ when the weather's nice out!"

"Imagine how the kids feel," Gabe says, drumming his fingers on the table. "Six hours is practically an _eternity_ for them."

"I know." Stef sighs. _"I'm_ the one stuck with 'em the whole time. Is Georgie lookin' forward to comin' back to school?"

"Sort of." Gabe sits up now, letting his hand fall to the table. "She's excited to see Sarah every day again. And she said something about joining clubs?"

"Oh yeah!" Stef crams a few cooling fries into their mouth, talking excitedly around them. "Every year in February we start up clubs for the third and fourth graders to join. I'm actually pretty excited about that." 

"What kind of clubs?" Gabe asks. "I don't think I got, uh, any paperwork or anything?"

"Nah, you won't get that until next month," they say. "And most of the clubs are just during lunch, so you probably won't have to worry about gettin' her to school early or pickin' her up late or anything."

"Oh, good to know." He falls quiet for a moment, and then he gives them this soft little smile that makes their heart do something funny in their chest, and says, "So are you in charge of all the clubs?"

Stef snorts. "Nah, there's like, ten of 'em, spread across a few different teachers. I've only got one club to worry about. It's actually my first year runnin' a club!" they proudly add.

He raises an eyebrow, smile widening. "Oh? What club?"

Oh, crap. He's gonna think they're a total _nerd._ "Uh," they say. "Dungeons and Dragons club."

Surprisingly, his eyes light up, and he leans over the table, closer to Stef's space. "Shit, really? That's awesome!"

"It is?" Stef blinks, then feels the tension they'd been unaware of carrying release from their shoulders. "You like D&D?"

"Yeah!" He sits back in his seat, his foot brushing against Stef's again; they feel themself flush. "I used to play all the time in high school. Used to DM for all my friends. Haven't played since then, though."

"Dang," Stef breathes. "You were a _nerd?_ I totally woulda pegged you as a jock."

He laughs. "I mean, I was on the football team, too. So you're not wrong."

"Holy crap. The school I went to was, like, one of those schools you see in a 90's teen movie. Jocks versus nerds, band geeks, clear divisions between the cliques." They laugh. 

"Oh? And what clique were you in?"

Stef smirks. "The popular kids," they say. "Came out as nonbinary in high school, and luckily it was like ' _cool'_ or somethin' at the time, so that, along with my absolutely goshdarn _sparkling_ personality, got me adopted into the in crowd pretty easy."

"Wow," Gabe says, looking appropriately impressed. "Must've been nice to be accepted so readily, huh?"

"Well." Stef sucks their lower lip between their teeth for a moment, then takes a sip of their tea before replying. "I wouldn't really say they 'accepted' me so much as 'derived entertainment from me.'" They laugh, half-sincerely. "I mean, I'd been out as, like, _gay_ since middle school, but the popular kids didn't really show any interest in me 'til I was openly _nonbinary._ They thought it was funny or somethin'." They roll their eyes. It'd been nice to be part of the popular kids in high school, having their name known by the whole school, being the subject of so much gossip. They definitely could've done without being treated as the clique mascot, or _pet,_ or whatever, though.

Gabe nods seriously, his expression empathetic. "Yeah, I get that. It's tough to be queer in high school, especially as a--"

"Gabe?" 

Stef and Gabe look over at the same time to find Cole standing there, wiping his hands on his grease-smeared apron. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, but I'm gettin' kinda swamped in the kitchen. Could you...?"

"Oh," says Gabe. "Oh! Oh, yeah, of course!" He scrambles to stand up from the booth, sending an apologetic look to Stef. "Sorry we can't talk longer. See you later, uh, enjoy the rest of your meal!"

And then he and Cole both vanish into the kitchen.

Stef sighs. They've grown to really enjoy spending time with Gabe! It's sad to see him go. Oh, well. They'll see him again soon.

They finish the rest of their ice-cold fries and wait for Bunny to bring their check.

**Sunday, January 12.**

The bell above the door rings just as Gabe leaves the kitchen, pulling his hairnet off for the first time in hours, and he glances over at the door to see two familiar faces.

"Marco!" he says excitedly, shaking his sweaty hair out. "Good to see ya, man. And Dante! Finally comin' by to make good on our deal, huh?"

"Hey. Yeah, dude, I'm not about to turn down free food." Dante grins, showing off his teeth. His hair's probably as tangled as Gabe's own right now, though it's not nearly as long and curly as his own. "Where ya wanna sit, babe?" he asks Marco, looking up at him. 

"Window," Marco says. He leads Dante over to the table he and Stef usually take, when the two of them come in, and Gabe reaches under the counter for a couple of menus.

"Don't you _dare,"_ Shaw says, swiping the menus from his hand as he straightens up. "You are on _break._ I can handle-- _oh!_ " Ae grins as ae presumably catches sight of the two newcomers. "Marco and Dante, my two _favorite_ lovebirds!"

Dante looks up and rolls his eyes. "Oh, _gross,_ " he says. "It's _you._ Just lost my appetite."

Marco snorts, reaching across the table to take Dante's hand in his own. "No ya didn't. Hey, Shaw."

"Didn't know they let rats into nice places like this," Shaw says, dropping the menus on the table, and Gabe would probably ask aer not to call his customers rats if there wasn't clearly some sort of friendly (God he hopes it's friendly) antagonism going on between them, and if the only other customers in the diner weren't clear on the other side of the room.

"Don't call my fiance a rat," Marco says, picking up a menu with his free hand and seeming only vaguely interested in Shaw's words. "You should get the grilled cheese. It's good."

"I can get a grilled cheese at _home,"_ Dante says. 

"Yeah, but you suck at cookin'. It'd be a shitty grilled cheese."

"Like _you_ could do better."

"At least _I_ butter the bread."

"I'll butter _your--"_

"Would you just _order_ somethin'?" Shaw squawks, and Gabe laughs, walking closer. He'd known Shaw was friends with Stef and Marco, of course, but he hadn't been aware that ae was so close with Dante, too.

"If you're having trouble deciding," he says, lightly rapping his knuckles on the table to catch their attention, "I can make some recommendations for you?"

"Nah, it's cool." Dante closes the menu, pushing it toward Shaw. "I'll take the reuben. Marco said it was good the last time he was here."

"Aw," Gabe says, not bothering to resist the smile spreading across his face. "Marco. You talk up my food?"

Marco rolls his eyes, the ghost of a smile crossing his lips. Gabe's come to realize that he doesn't smile much, whether he's happy or not; this tiny smile means a lot. "I mentioned offhand that I had a good lunch," he says, and turns back to Dante. "Don't make it seem like I _care,_ asshole."

Dante snorts. "Don't pretend you _don't_ care, dick," he says through a grin.

Shaw makes a quiet cooing sound. "I'm gonna get sick from all this _love_ if I'm not careful," ae laughs. 

"Shut up." Pink tinges Marco's cheeks, and he quickly places his order, forcing Shaw and Gabe both away from the table.

"They seem happy," Gabe says, glancing over his shoulder at the two of them before he and Shaw both head around the other side of the counter. They've got their hands entwined on the table, talking and laughing. Gabe's not sure he's _ever_ seen Marco look so happy.

"They are," Shaw says happily, leaning through the window to clip their order in place. "I'm real happy for Marco. He's like a little brother to me, y'know? He deserves somethin' good like this. Even though his fiance _is_ a little gremlin."

Gabe hums in response, pausing in the kitchen doorway to look over at them again. "Can I ask you something?" he asks, lowering his voice and leaning toward Shaw.

Shaw raises an eyebrow at him, but slides closer. "What's up, Mr. Boss-man?"

Gabe rolls his eyes at the nickname--he's never been a fan of that, but it seems weird to correct aer--and asks, "Why is Stef so... _upset_ about Dante? He seems like a good guy to me." Granted, he'd only met the guy twice before this, but still.

Shaw's quiet for a moment, fiddling with the hem of aer apron. Ae seems to be mulling something over in aer mind. Maybe trying to figure out how to respond? 

After a moment, ae straightens up, meeting his gaze. "Stef is... a big sibling," ae says hesitantly. "Marco went through a pretty rough patch that he's only recently started to recover from. I think Stef's just worried that Marco's relationship with Dante will cause him to backslide into that again, but... well, from what I've seen, this couldn't be any more _different_ from that _."_

Gabe frowns. It doesn't really make much sense to him, but he obviously doesn't want to pry too much. If he had more information, he could probably figure it out, but... well. He doesn't really know any of them well enough, does he?

_Maybe_ he knows Stef well enough to ask them about it, but... with how secretive _Shaw_ of all people is being, he still doesn't think it's his place to ask.

If they want to volunteer information about it, they will.

He nods. "Thanks for telling me," he says. "I hope Stef and Dante can work through their problems."

"Yeah," Shaw says. "So do I."

Marco tilts his head back and laughs, then, a deep laugh, much more substantial than the few quiet chuckles Gabe's heard from him before.

"He seems happy, Gabe comments, and Shaw smiles.

"He does, doesn't he?" Shaw's voice is soft now, and there's something like _pride_ in aer tone.

**Monday, January 13.**

The first day back to school is about as exhausting as Stef had thought it'd be.

About half of the class is hyped up more than usual, undoubtedly excited to see their friends again, and probably having grown bored of sitting around their houses all day. The other half, however, are grumpy and unhappy; these are the kids that Stef has to work with the most. They want coming back to school to be a _good_ experience for them, after all, so they do their best to make the first day especially fun for those who need it.

This is all normal and expected; every first day back after a break goes about the same way every time.

What's strange today, though, is that Georgie and Sarah are acting sneaky and suspicious.

Stef's been keeping an eye on them all morning. The two of them have been talking throughout the day, which definitely isn't _unusual._ .. but today, instead of giggling behind their books or conversing through an intricate series of hand-gestures and microexpressions, they've been whispering _conspiratorially,_ heads ducked close together and hands held over their mouths. Instead of continuing to talk until Stef verbally shushes them, they clam up whenever Stef draws close.

It's unnerving.

Stef's mulling this all over in their head as they watch their soup spin around in the teachers' lounge microwave. They've got about an hour and a half before they have to be in T eacher Mode again, with the kids currently at lunch and then heading to Music class for a bit. The break will be nice; they're _tired._

"Oh, Campbell. Good to see you."

Stef stifles a groan and turns to look at the jerk who's just interrupted their peaceful solitude. "Korse," they reply through gritted teeth. "Have a good break?"

"I did, thank you." 

Mr. Korse is one of the other 4th-grade teachers and a constant thorn in Stef's side. He seems to think he can do _everything_ better than Stef, just because he's been teaching here for a decade longer than they have. He's always flaunting his _perfect schedules,_ his _flawlessly-decorated classroom,_ his _perfectly well-behaved students._ He's such a _jerk!_ Stef's constantly working to one-up him, but he's always one step ahead of them, somehow.

The microwave _beeps,_ and Stef takes the opportunity to turn away from Korse, pulling their soup out and stirring it to make sure it's evenly heated, then carrying it, along with the rest of their lunch, over to the table to sit down. Hopefully now that they're _clearly occupied,_ Korse will leave them alone.

Of course, that doesn't happen.

He takes a seat directly across from Stef, setting his little lunch box on the table in front of him. "Today," he says, tone as serious as always, "is National Sticker Day."

"Is it?" Stef asks, doing their best to seem as uninterested as possible. Of _course,_ they already know that it's National Sticker Day; what sort of self-respecting schoolteacher would _forget_ about National Sticker Day? They've got an art project for the kids later in celebration of today, and special stickers to hand out before they leave. Their kids are gonna be _swimming_ in stickers, and they don't want _Mr. Korse_ stealing their ideas.

"It is," he says. "I'm surprised your students haven't mentioned it; mine have been quite excited all morning." He carefully unwraps his perfectly-prepared and -packaged lunch. Stef glances between it and their own pre-portioned soup and the sandwich they'd picked up from the supermarket deli a couple of days ago. Theirs looks so _sad_ in comparison, but they're not about to tell _him_ that.

Korse must see the no-doubt envious glance, though, because his mouth twitches up at the corner as he pulls out a fork to start in on the little salad. "Admiring my lunch?" he asks, so freaking _smug._ Dang it, this is _not_ the outcome Stef wanted!

"It looks... nice," they say, sipping at their minestrone.

"My husband made it for me," Korse says, and Stef feels their jaw tighten. He's _always_ bragging about his _"wonderful, talented, gorgeous husband,"_ and Stef's _sick_ of it! Yes, it's _very_ nice that he has a wonderful husband, it's nice to not be the only queer person in this area of the school, but why does it have to be _Korse_ of all people? Ugh, if only Manami was in this wing instead of the kindergarten. Let Korse deal with the tiny kids and let Stef have Manami to work with!

"Congrats," Stef says, definitely not bitter. "Well, I should get back to my classroom. Got some stuff to work on." They scoop up their half-finished soup and untouched sandwich to set up shop back at their desk, when who should come in but Manami herself, carrying the little wicker basket Stef knows contains not only her lunch, but also her wife's. 

"Oh, Stef," she says. "Leaving already?"

They hesitate. They _really_ don't wanna deal with Korse when they're tired like this, but Manami's one of Stef's favorite people, and if there's anyone who can recharge their battery, it's her.

They sigh and set their lunch back on the table. "Nah," they say. "I can finish my lunch first."

That infuriatingly smug look flickers across Korse's face again, and then he turns to greet Manami.

Stef busies themself with unwrapping their sandwich while Manami and Korse engage in pleasantries (she's always been too nice to everyone, and _never_ has any problems with Korse), and falls into a bit of a trance as they think through the rest of their plans for the day. 

"Your birthday is coming up soon, isn't it, Stef?" Manami asks, and they realize she's sat down on their left.

They quickly swallow their bite of sandwich and nod. "Yeah, the twenty-third," they say. "Gonna be twenty-eight." God, it feels so weird to think that. They're so close to _thirty._ They used to think of _thirty_ as _practically dead._ Now, they just feel like they're getting old.

"We should do something that day," Manami says. "It's a school day, right? How about if Rosana and I bake you a cake?"

"I _never_ say no to cakes," Stef says with a grin. "Especially one of _Rosana's!"_ Rosana's cakes are _legendary_ throughout the school. She doesn't always bake one for everyone's birthday--Stef's only gotten one, themself, their first year here--but whenever she _does_ bake one, there's a mad scramble to get to the teacher's lounge and get a slice before they're all snagged.

"I'll see if she's not too busy, then," Manami says. "Either way, we should have a little celebration, don't you think?"

"I'd love it," they tell her honestly.

And Stef goes back to their classroom feeling much better than when they'd left it. Manami really _does_ recharge their battery.

\-----

Unfortunately, the extra energy doesn't last long.

By the time the last kid's left for home, Stef is _exhausted._ It's fine; they're just tired because they've had a busy day after a couple of weeks away from the school. They _know_ this, but it does nothing to fix the problem. 

Not wanting to stick around too much longer, they gather up their books and all the papers they need to grade and pack up as quickly as they can. Normally, they like to do their work at the school, but today they just need to be at _home._

Tomorrow will be a better day.

\-----

"Marco!" they call, lugging their heavy bag through the doorway.

"Polo," Marco calls back, sounding disinterested. 

Stef follows the sound of his voice to find their brother curled up on the sofa, leaning on the arm with his long legs pulled up close to his chest. Tomato's curled up in the small space between his knees and the arm of the couch, and Stef can hear him purring. 

Marco glances up from his phone when Stef drops their bag on the couch. "You look tired," he says.

Stef groans. "I _am."_

"Kids stole all your energy?" Marco shifts, dropping his feet to the floor and sitting upright, keeping a hand on Tomato so the fluffball doesn't feel the need to run away. 

They nod, settling themself on the cushion beside him. "Busy," they say. "How was your day?"

"Good." Marco wraps his arm around Stef's shoulders, tugging them closer so they're forced to lay their cheek against _his_ shoulder; not that they mind. They let their eyes fall closed. "Made a couple TikToks. Got some work done today," Marco continues. "Almost done with that project. Thinkin' about goin' after some of the higher-effort projects for a while, make some good money an' keep myself occupied when no one's around."

"Sounds like a good idea," Stef says. They don't really know what _"higher effort"_ means in this context; coding of any kind is like a completely foreign language to them. They have no idea what the difference is between coding a website and coding, like, a robot that picks tomatoes out of your salad or whatever the hell Marco's into.

Marco grunts in reply, then shifts. Stef opens their eyes to find Marco holding his phone in front of them. "Look at this," he says. He hits _play_ on the video, and Stef watches as Tomato rolls across the screen on a skateboard while a clip of Avril Lavigne's _Sk8er Boy_ plays.

They snort, tilting their head to look up at their brother. "Why is he on a _skateboard?"_ they ask. "Where did you even _get_ a skateboard?"

"Shaw left it here," he says. "I dunno why _ae_ had it, but it was here, and I saw an opportunity. Posted it on TikTok."

"How's it doin'?"

"Good. People like the Tomato videos. More fun than the shitty depression jokes, too." He swipes his thumb across the screen to show them another video. This time it's a simple video of Tomato playing with the strings of Marco's hoodie. They smile as they watch.

"Guess you _did_ have a good day, huh?" 

"Yeah." Marco adjusts his hold on them. "You feelin' better? Wanna watch some other TikToks with me? Saw a couple I thought you'd like today."

"Sure." Stef snuggles closer to his shoulder, feeling the stress of the day melt away.

It's weird, though. Having Marco comfort _them_ when _they're_ exhausted instead of the other way around. For the past nine or ten years, _they've_ always been the one trying to get Marco's mood up, making sure he eats and drinks and keeps his head above the water. It's been maybe six months since Marco started recovering from his depression and going to therapy, six months since he started feeling well enough to actively take care of himself.

It's nice to be able to rely on him, now. To come to _him_ for comfort.

They let themself relax more fully, and spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out with their brother.

  
  


**Saturday, January 18.**

"Daddy," Georgie asks as Gabe pauses by her booth, "can Sarah stay the night next week?"

He blinks. "...Stay the night?" he repeats, trying to process this. "What... what day?"

She shrugs, looking back down at the sheet of paper she's drawing on. "Prob'ly next Saturday. Or Friday."

"Uh." Gabe mentally goes through his schedule, and Lola's schedule, and a thousand other things. "I don't think so," he says, as gently as he can while he inwardly panics. "I can't take the whole night off to hang out with both of you."

She huffs, looking back up. "Please?" she asks, drawing the syllables out and clasping her hands in front of her chest. Gabe's heart stops in his chest. " _Pretty_ please? Me an' Sarah can just stay in the house while you work, we won't go anywhere an' I _promise_ we won't use the stove or the toaster!"

Gabe swallows. How old is _old enough_ to stay home alone? Georgie's nine, _almost_ ten, and Sarah's also nine, and Georgie's a pretty responsible kid, but she _does_ tend to go a little wild sometimes, when she's got too much sugar in her system or when she's excited by something _(like a friend coming over to stay the night),_ and Gabe's barely capable of handling _one_ kid on top of his job, let alone _two,_ one of whom he's never seen in a home setting and has no idea how _she'd_ react to spending the night at a friend's house.

There's no way, right? This isn't something he can handle. It's not something he can say _yes_ to.

"No," he says, careful to keep his tone firm. "I'm sorry, Georgie, but Sarah can't stay the night."

Georgie's eyebrows draw together, and her mouth turns down in a wobbly frown. _Shit._ He has to stay firm; this isn't something he's equipped to handle!

"Maybe she can stay another time," he says quickly, before she can beg again. "When I have more time to plan for it. I'm sorry, Georgia Peach; I just can't leave you alone for that long."

"Okay," she says, clearly unhappy, and ducks her head to continue coloring. "I'll tell her."

Gabe sighs, reaching down to ruffle her hair and making the curls bounce. "Why don't you see if you can stay at her house?" he suggests. 

"Maybe." Her voice is tight now, her colors growing darker as she presses harder on her crayon. Gabe retracts his hand, letting it dangle at his side. She doesn't want to talk now, too upset by his refusal. God, what does he do about this? How does he _fix_ it? 

He can't. Not right now, anyway. He just has to let her cool down, and maybe look over his calendar for a time he _could_ plan for another kid in his house.

This would be so much easier if they still lived in Oregon, with Damien and Jason and Gabe's parents close by and always ready to act as backup.

"Are you hungry, kiddo?" he asks, finally getting around to the reason he'd come over here in the first place; but she just shakes her head and continues coloring.

He leaves her alone then, feeling guilty and angry with himself again. He _knows_ that opening the diner was a good opportunity for him; knows that seeing new places and meeting new people is good for both him _and_ Geogie, knows that Georgie _chose_ to come here with him, rather than stay behind with Damien and Jason, but....

Maybe it was the wrong choice, after all.

He shakes his head as he steps back into the kitchen. No, no, _no._ He can't let himself slip into that mindset. Georgie can have a sleepover at Sarah's any weekend she likes. Her parents usually have time for that sort of thing, he knows. Georgie can't have _everything_ she wants, and it's not like he's refusing this just to be _mean._ They can work out another day for a sleepover.

It's fine.

It's _life._

  
  


**Thursday, January 23.**

Gabe's rushing around so much this morning that he almost completely misses it when Lola stops by to pick Georgie up for school. 

"Bye, Daddy!" Georgie calls, heading out the door, and Gabe's heart leaps into his throat. 

"Wait!" he shouts back, hurriedly gathering up all the things he'd been getting together. "Hang on, I have-- you need to drop this in the office, Lola-- or Kai-- or-- uh, sorry, here--!"

"Gabe, Gabe, _Gabe,_ " Lola says gently, stepping into the kitchen and putting her hand on his shoulder. _"Breathe._ Your energy's gonna be _all_ out of whack for the rest of the day!"

Gabe stops, closes his eyes, and breathes slowly. She's right; he's panicking over something he doesn't _need_ to. Though, he _really_ wants this to be the best he can offer.... 

"Sorry," he says, opening his eyes and looking up at Lola. She smiles at him, eyelids and lips shining with silver glitter. "Sorry, I just have something I need taken to the school, and I didn't have much time to prepare, so--"

"Well, Georgie doesn't have to be at school right away," Lola says, voice soothing. "So you have a few more minutes to finish up!"

He breathes out a sigh of relief. "Right," he says. "Right, right. Uh, okay. Yeah." He turns back to the box he's filling up. What else--?

"Can I help, Daddy?" Georgie asks, rocking on her heels with a big grin on her face. Of course, _she_ knows what this is. Who it's for.

He breaks into a smile, heart feeling lighter. "Sure thing, sweetie," he says.

\-----

Stef's birthday starts out on a decent note. 

Marco's awake before they are, a rare occurrence, and he wishes them a happy birthday, giving them a tight hug before they leave for the day.

"Don't let anyone talk ya into goin' somewhere after work to celebrate," he warns, sounding serious. "I got dinner plans for us."

"Aw, Marco," they say, eyes misting up. "You don't hafta go through any trouble for me!"

"You don't even know what we're doin' yet," he says, and they notice a mischievous little twinkle in his eye as he releases them. "I could just be takin' ya to McDonald's."

"And I'd _still_ love it, 'cause it'd be a birthday dinner with my favorite baby brother!"

"Whatever. Just have a good day at work and _don't forget_ that we got plans."

"You got it, li'l bro!"

That one interaction, along with the anticipation of what he's planning, keeps Stef in a good mood all morning. 

On top of that, their friends who pass them in the halls before school starts wish them a happy birthday, too; Simon, Doc, Manami, even Principal Phoenix. As they're working on writing today's schedule on the whiteboard, Rosana herself even steps inside their classroom, chin-length red hair and the sophisticated black pantsuit that she seems to treat as a work uniform always making her stand out from the rest of the school employees.

"Happy birthday, Stef," she says, smiling softly. "My wife was quite insistent that I make you a cake today."

"Thanks!" Stef says, capping their blue dry erase marker and setting it aside. "Yeah, she brought it up, not me!"

Rosana laughs, a soft, elegant noise, covering her mouth with one hand. Everything Rosana does is _elegant,_ and Stef's never been able to figure out how she's so _effortlessly_ so. The contrast between her sophistication and Manami's adorable, bouncy personality fascinates them endlessly. "You don't have to defend yourself," she says. "I wasn't about to _accuse_ you of anything, I promise. I was only going to tell you that I won't be able to join you for your lunch break, but Manami will bring the cake by. Please enjoy it."

Stef can feel their eyes widen and their mouth stretch into a grin. "Oh my _gosh,_ Rosana, you didn't _have_ to! Thank you _so_ much!" 

She laughs again. "You're welcome, Stef. Really, you're doing me a favor. I love to bake, but I don't always have a reason to; I think a 28th birthday is a pretty good reason."

They're still smiling as she saunters back out of the room.

Honestly, they were expecting the birthday wishes from friends, and though they didn't _know_ Rosana would be baking them one of her cakes, they'd been pretty sure she'd agree. However, what they _aren't_ expecting is for their wall phone to ring a few minutes later, and to hear Rosana's voice on the other end asking them to come down to the office and pick up a package.

They've still got a few minutes before the kids will start coming in from the playground to start the day, so Stef hurries off to the office with some trepidation. They have no idea what the package is. They haven't ordered anything recently, so they doubt it's new school supplies. It _could_ be a birthday gift, of course, but if one of their work friends had wanted to give them something, they'd have just dropped it by the classroom or given it to them at lunch. 

They feel a bubble of anxiety in the pit of their stomach; what if it's something from their parents? They haven't heard from either of them since the whole Christmas fiasco went down, but what better way to try and force Stef to contact _them_ than by making them receive a "gift" at school?

Still. Rosana, who probably knew _something_ of what had happened with their parents, since Stef had mentioned it a bit to Manami, hadn't said who it was from. So it's probably not _that._

When Stef walks into the office, though, it's not Rosana who hands them the box--a plain cardboard box, not taped or addressed, but the flaps simply folded together to keep it shut--but instead the other secretary, Holly.

"Who's it from?" Stef asks, taking it into their arms. It's fairly light, so _definitely_ not textbooks.

Holly shrugs. "Tall woman dropped it off for you," she says. "Didn't get a name. I peeked inside, though; looks like a birthday gift."

"Oh." Stef's still unsure, but they shrug. They'll just open it up in the classroom before the kids get in. "Thanks, then," they say, and leave the office as quickly as they'd come.

They shoot a look at the clock as they enter the room; 7:53. There's still seven minutes 'til the kids come inside. Plenty of time to see what's in the box.

They set the box on their desk and open it up. They can see there's several smaller boxes inside, and, on top, a piece of paper folded in half. 

Stef slips their glasses on and unfolds the paper to read.

_"Dear Stef,"_ it reads. _"Happy birthday! Sorry I couldn't give this to you in person. Shaw told me it was your birthday today just last night, and I wanted you to have something._

_"Hope your day is great! Next time you come to the diner, I'll treat you to a meal._

_"Your friend, Gabe."_

Stef's bottom lip stings, and they realize suddenly that it's because they've been biting it, holding back a smile. Gabe sent them a birthday present! That's so sweet... Heck. Their heart is frickin' _swooping_ in their chest!

They set the letter aside and pick up the first box; it's a box of tea. Peach tea, in fact. The second box is earl grey, and the third is Stef's favorite, cinnamon tea. 

The fourth and final box is larger than the others, and heavier. It's unmarked, unlike the other three; opening it up, they find a batch of Gabe's chocolate chip cookies inside. They smell _amazing,_ and Stef's afraid they're gonna start _drooling_ if they're not careful. 

They look at the clock again; 7:58. Two more minutes. Plenty of time to eat a single cookie and hide the rest away, right?

Definitely.

\-----

"Mx. Campbell," Georgie asks later with a smug smile, "why do you have chocolate on your face?"

\-----

That afternoon, as Stef's driving home to whatever it is Marco has planned for them, they realize that they should text Gabe and thank him for the gift; and then they realize that they _don't have his number._

What the heck?! How could they not have his _number?!_ They're _friends_ (good friends, maybe. On their way to something _else,_ maybe), he'd even said so in the _birthday letter._ So why the heck hadn't they exchanged numbers?!

They'd had plenty of opportunities to _ask_ ; they go to the diner at _least_ once a week, usually more often if they can help it. Dang it!

Stef sighs to themself as they park their car and head up to their apartment. Maybe they can ask Shaw for his number? But, no. That'd feel _weird,_ somehow. Sure, they've gotten plenty of hot guys' numbers from Shaw in the past, but this is _different._ Gabe's their _friend._

They're gonna have to go see Gabe as soon as they can, thank him in person, and ask for his number. 

"Marco," they call as they open the front door. Huh, that's weird. The lights are off; maybe he's out? They shift their bag over to the other arm and flip the light switch.

 **_"Surprise!"_ ** call several different voices from different parts of the room, and there are balloons and banners, and the living room is full of _people,_ what the _heck?!_

"What the--? _Shaw?!"_

"Happy birthday, my darling fire engine!" Shaw skates up from where they'd been hiding behind the couch and flings aerself at them, aer arms wrapping tightly around them.

"Shaw," they say, hugging back. Their heart is _racing!_ "Oh my _gosh,_ is this a _surprise party?_ For _me?!"_

"No," comes Marco's deadpan voice, and Stef glances over toward the kitchen to see him walking toward them. "It's a surprise party for Tomato. You just happened to walk in at the right moment."

"Ha, ha." Stef rolls their eyes and manages to extricate one arm from Shaw's merciless hug, holding it out for Marco to tuck himself into and join the hug, too. "Thanks, guys," Stef says, eyes feeling a little moist (why have they been _crying_ so much lately?! Is this a part of getting old?!). "I love you so _much!"_

"What about us?" calls Simon, and suddenly he's here, too, along with Madhavi, Manami, and Rosana, of all people. 

Stef laughs and does their best to gather everyone into the hug. "You _guys!"_ they honestly _squeal,_ they're so excited. "What are you _doing_ here?! How did you get here before I did?! Ugh, wait, is _this_ why Korse asked me to make all those extra copies? Ew, you got _Korse_ in on this?!" 

"Technically," Manami says, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "we got his husband in on it. We had Junjie ask him to have you do that. We made him promise not to tell him why, don't worry."

Stef breathes a sigh of relief. "Well, thanks," they say. "I seriously wasn't expecting this, oh my _gosh!"_

"That's why it's called a _surprise_ party," says a voice Stef doesn't ever want to hear in their apartment. "If you were expectin' it, it'd be a pretty shitty surprise."

Stef grits their teeth. "Dante."

Their friends must feel the tension in their body, or hear it in their voice, because they all release Stef and step away; everyone except Marco, of course, who just straightens up, tightening his grip on them ever so slightly.

Stef can easily read what Marco's trying to tell them: _"please play nice."_ Well, Stef doesn't _want_ to play nice! They want this guy out of their apartment and out of Marco's _life!_

But they don't say that. They never _say_ that, not out loud, but this time they do their best not to even _imply_ it. Because this is a _birthday party,_ a birthday party that _Marco_ threw for them, and Stef won't let anything, not even fear or dislike or _hatred_ ruin this for Marco.

So they smile at Dante, and nod, and turn to Simon to start up a conversation about... something. Stef doesn't know what they're saying, but Simon seems to take to the subject eagerly enough.

It's surprisingly easy to ignore Dante, they find. He doesn't go out of his way to talk to them, aside from that first time, and Stef doesn't go out of _their_ way to talk to _him._ Marco floats between the two of them, and it's... well, Stef still doesn't like that, but it's just _one_ day. One _afternoon._ So they busy themself with talking to their friends whenever Marco drifts back to his boyfriend.

"This was a good surprise," Stef says to Rosana, who's sitting beside them on the couch with her wife in her lap. "I had no _idea!_ Like, with the cake this morning--frickin' _delicious,_ by the way, thank you _so_ much--you coulda just _not_ done that, or saved it for the surprise party, but no! You had me completely fooled into thinkin' that was _the_ surprise from all my school friends!"

Rosana laughs softly, and Manami leans forward, adjusting her position so she doesn't squish her wife. "My idea!" she says, beaming. "Marco wanted to throw you as far off the trail as possible, and I thought the cake would be a good distraction!"

"Is that the _only_ reason you suggested the cake?" Stef feigns hurt, pressing one hand to their chest and pouting at her.

Manami laughs. "Well, that _and_ I think you deserved something nice today!"

"Speaking of 'nice,'" Rosana interjects. "What was in that package you received this morning? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh." Stef's face heats up. _Shoot!_ Blushing is gonna _totally_ give away their crush on Gabe. Is "crush" the right word? They're 28 now. Is 28 too old to use words like "crush?" "Ah, it was just a gift from a friend. Nothing terribly interesting."

"Blush on your face says otherwise." There's a pressure on the back of the sofa, and Stef turns their head to see Simon's partner, Madhavi, leaning on the cushion, arms folded beneath her chin. She grins, revealing a chipped tooth. 

Their face heats up even more. _Dang it!_ "No idea what you're talkin' about," they say, and clear their throat. 

She arches an eyebrow at them, makes a big show of rolling her eyes over to Manami and Rosana, who both giggle. Madhavi's grin widens, and she looks back to Stef. "So, who is it?" she asks. "Someone I know? Nah, prob'ly not. Someone _Simon_ knows? A coworker? Huh?"

"Not a coworker," Rosana says. "It was dropped off in the office by a rather tall woman--nearly as tall as you, I think--with pink and green hair."

"Oh, Lola dropped it off?" Stef asks. That definitely makes more sense. If Georgie's babysitter had to be at the school to drop her off, anyway, it'd be easy enough for Gabe to ask her to drop the package at the office.

"Lola?" Madhavi looks startled, and she straightens up, a serious expression coming over her face. "Now, you listen here. Lola is _married,_ and don't think you can talk 'er into--"

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!_ I'm not into _Lola!"_

"No?" She squints at Stef. "Why not? You think Lola's not _good_ enough for--"

"I'm into _Gabe!"_

Madhavi's brow furrows, and Stef hears Manami behind them suck in a breath. Well, _heck._ It's not a _huge_ secret, they suppose, but this is still a pretty awkward way to say that.

"Wait," Madhavi says, and her eyes widen. "Wait, Gabe like Gabe _Martín?_ That Gabe?!"

"Uh. Yes?"

She blinks, and then she throws her head back and laughs, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. "Damn! Didn't know Gabey had an admirer! Well, good, _good!_ He deserves it, y'know? Good guy. Needs to do more lower body workouts, but a good guy." She laughs again, releasing them. "Aw, that's fuckin' _cute."_

"Shut _up!"_ Stef hisses, and now they feel like their face is on _fire._

"Nah, nah, I'm not _teasin'_ ya," Madhavi says, teasingly, with a teasing smile on her face. "I just mean that you should _go_ for it. Don't sit there pinin' away. Won't get you anywhere!"

"I'm not _pining!"_

"No, she's right." Rosana leans closer, her arm still wrapped around Manami's waist, keeping her snugly in place. "If you're really interested in this _Gabe_ fellow--"

"Oh, they are," Manami says with a smirk, and Stef shoots her a glare.

"--then you've got to just _go for it,_ you know?" 

Stef groans. "I didn't _ask_ for relationship advice!"

"Well, you got it anyway. Consider it a birthday gift, since I didn't exactly bring ya anythin'." Madhavi winks. "Besides, I'm mostly sayin' this for Gabe's sake." She pokes them in the chest with her index finger. "You should ask 'im out."

Stef bites their lip. "You really think so?" 

"Hell _yeah_ I think so." Her lips part in another toothy grin. "Trust me on this."

_Maybe they should._

**Sunday, January 26.**

"Here ya go, Georgie." Gabe sets a plate of hashbrowns and eggs in front of his daughter. She'd insisted on sitting at the counter this morning, instead of her usual out-of-the-way booth. "Want some more juice before I head back into the kitchen?"

She shakes her head. "I got enough. Thanks, daddy." She picks up her fork and starts in on her breakfast, and Gabe turns to head back into the kitchen. Luckily, he doesn't have to worry about Georgie being entertained too much today; Lola's coming by in a couple of hours to take Georgie to the park for a while. He _really_ doesn't pay her enough, honestly. 

"Hey, Gabe, we're runnin' low on rosemary," Cole says as Gabe enters the kitchen. "You added that to the list for the next order?"

"Yeah, I took care of it." Gabe picks up a spoon and gives the soup simmering away on the stove a quick stir. "Let me know if you notice anything else, though. We've been gettin' busier lately."

"Better be gettin' busier," Cole says. "We make damn good food. You're gonna have to hire some more people soon."

"You think?" Gabe reaches up to fiddle with his hairnet. He's known he'd have to bring in some more people eventually, as the diner brought in more money, but it feels like he's only just started business. Is now a good time to start hiring more people? He can't help but feel a little nervous about the prospect.

"Yeah. Take a look at the books soon, see how many people we can bring in. Another person or two for the kitchen, couple more servers for out front, that'd be ideal, I think."

"Yeah." Gabe bites back a grin, starting back in on some more prep work before it gets _too_ busy. This is... _definitely_ more than he was expecting to think about this morning.

"Oh, Gabey," Shaw sing-songs from the window a few minutes later. He turns toward them, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his wrist. "Your little lover-them is here!"

He feels his face heat up at the term. "They're not-- _ugh."_ He bites back his protestations, knowing it'll just egg aer on. He just hopes Stef can't hear aer from wherever they are. "I'll be out in a minute to say hi!"

"I'll let 'em know," ae says, throwing him a wink, and then disappears from his line of sight.

He hasn't seen Stef since before their birthday; he hopes they liked their present, as haphazard as it was. 

Gabe rushes through the rest of his task, then informs Cole he'll be back momentarily, stripping his gloves off as he goes. 

Shaw passes him on aer way by, and points him over to the window-seat Stef seems to prefer. They're alone today, he sees. No Marco in tow. 

"Stef, hi!" he grins as he stops by their table. "Good to see you."

"Gabe! You, too!" Stef beams back up at him, and Gabe's struck suddenly by the way the morning sunlight strikes their hair, lighting it up and giving their skin a soft, rosy glow. "I wanted to stop by and thank you for the gift," they continue. "Those cookies were frickin' _good,_ and the tea!"

"Glad you liked it," he says. "Sorry I couldn't get you anything better, I--"

_"Better?"_ Stef repeats, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Gabe, that was _such_ a sweet gift, you have _no_ idea." They reach up and tuck a lock of hair behind their ear; Gabe follows the movement, lingering on the way their fingers move. They lower their hand, and he snaps his gaze back to their face. "Seriously. _Thank_ you."

He clears his throat. "It, uh, it was no problem! Um-- _oh!_ Did you order yet? Anything you want, on the house!"

"Shaw took my order. Gabe, listen." Stef's expression turns serious, and he swallows. "I realized something really important the other day, and I think we need to do something about it."

His heart rate picks up. Wait. Wait, does Stef feel the same--? Are they about to ask him out? Oh, god, what does he _say_ to that? He wasn't expecting this right now. Fuck, he wanted to talk to Georgie about this before he--

"I don't have your _freaking_ number!" Stef finishes, slamming their fist on the table in exaggerated frustration. "How the heck am I supposed to text you little thank-you notes when I don't have your _number?"_ Oh. _Oh,_ so it wasn't-- it wasn't a _date_ thing, it was just--

He laughs, a mixture of relief and disappointment circling his gut. "Oh, shit. Right. We never exchanged numbers, huh? Uh, hang on--" He pats his pockets, slipping his hand under his apron and pulling his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He unlocks it quickly and pulls up a new contact, then trades it to Stef for theirs. 

He quickly inputs his number, then hovers over the contact name for a moment. What would be an appropriate name to put in _Stef's phone?_ Just "Gabe" seems too impersonal, but he doesn't know which emojis fit their relationship. Ugh, why is this stuff so _hard?_

After a moment, he types "Gabe :-)" and hands it back to Stef, who passes his back also. He pockets it without looking at it. "Thanks! Uh, I have to get back to the kitchen, but--"

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Stef's smiling that wide, sweet smile of theirs still, and his heart flutters _again._ "I'll talk to ya later, or--text ya later, I guess!" They lift one hand and waggle their fingers at him. It's _adorable._

"Okay. Yeah. Uh, enjoy your meal! You know, um, when it comes. And happy belated birthday!"

Stef's giggle follows him back to the kitchen. 

\-----

It's an hour or so later, when Lola texts him to let him know that she's on her way, that Gabe takes a peek at Stef's contact.

"Stef ✨💖✨," it reads.

Gabe can't stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new year begins! i feel like a lot happened in this chapter lmao they've all been so busy!! i loved writing manami and rosana (blue and red, in case you were unaware) in this chapter..... and it was nice to get gabe and damien's backstory out here finally!! 😍  
> i also really love writing all these little cliches and sweet moments! i hope you'll all enjoy february as much as you enjoyed january! 😘
> 
> thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment! i'd love to know your thoughts!! 💖💖💖  
> you can come visit me on tumblr [@enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/)! i'll be posting the tiktoks mentioned here (bc ofc marco's tiktoks are based on ACTUAL tiktoks!) there later today, as well as a few other things.
> 
> stay safe!! 💖✌💖


	7. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome welcome!! I hope this fic update finds you well!! 💖
> 
> Huuuuuuuge thank you as always to my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) and my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this!!! 💖😄💖
> 
> Please enjoy!!! 😘💝
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: mild mentions of/references to transphobia, homophobia, depression, child abuse, and sex.

**Sunday, February 2.**

"I don't think he even _knows_ how to use emojis, he's always typing out little smiley faces and stuff instead, and he puts _noses_ on them, Shaw, frickin' _noses!"_ Stef holds their phone out for Shaw to see, and ae snorts, patting Stef's leg that's stretched out across aer lap.

"'Next time you come by, I'll make sure to have some fresh ones ready,'" Shaw reads aloud. "'Colon-hyphen-parenthesis.' Stef, I _know_ what Gabe's texting is like! I've been working there for, like, six _months!"_

Stef pouts at aer, pulling their phone back toward themself. "Are you sayin' it's _not_ cute, then?"

Shaw sighs. "No, his texting style is absolutely _adorable."_ Ae pauses, and gets a mischievous glint in aer eye. "Even cuter when he's textin' _you,_ though."

Stef feels their face heat up, but they don't hide it, just grin at their friend. "You think so?" they ask, scrolling through their messages again.

It's been a week since Stef _finally_ got Gabe's number, and the two of them have been texting pretty much _all the time._ The first couple of days, it was just quick messages asking about each other's day or Gabe asking if Stef was planning on stopping by the diner that day. They quickly moved on to more personal or funny texts, though, with Gabe sending them a meme from some restaurant-worker meme page that Stef only recognized as _funny_ thanks to previous conversations with Gabe. 

Now, Stef texts him as much as they do any other friend. Maybe a little more, in fact, sending him silly photos and updates throughout their day. Stef can't remember the last time they were _this_ excited to hear their phone buzz with new notifications.

"Steffie, you should just ask him _out_ already," Shaw groans for the umpteenth time, leaning over to bump aer head against their knee. 

"I _told_ you," they say, trying to pretend they're not _super_ into the idea, "I don't think it's the right time yet, I--"

"Stef, the last time you were _this_ enamored with someone was in _high school."_ Shaw shifts so aer cheek is against Stef's leg, aer eyes meeting theirs. Ae reaches up to pat Stef's cheek. "You haven't even _dated_ in so long, and with Marco doing so well now, you have more time than _ever_ to do that sort of thing. You're both _clearly_ into each other. What other excuses could you _have?"_

Stef doesn't say anything for a long moment, fidgeting with their phone. It's true that they've had more time lately, and just _talking_ to Gabe spreads warm fuzzy feelings through their body. They can't imagine what it would be like to actually _date_ him, with his sweet personality and his warm brown eyes and soft grin and big strong hands and--

They groan, dropping their phone to their chest. "You're worse than Madhavi," they say. "Worse than _Marco!_ Fine, _fine,_ I'll ask him out, okay, I just... gotta wait for the right time."

Shaw lifts aer head so fast Stef _swears_ ae must get whiplash, and ae grabs their hands, pulling them forward until ae can wrap aer arms around their torso in a big hug. "Fuck _yes!"_ Ae cheers. Ae pulls back so they can see aer whole face, beaming. "I'm gonna keep an eye on him and let you know if I see the _perfect_ time to ask him out! Or maybe I can even arrange something! Oh, that would be _wonderful!"_

Stef laughs, a little breathlessly, and returns the hug. _They're doing this._

**Wednesday, February 5.**

Gabe puts his weights away and tilts his head back, eyes falling closed as he breathes steadily, letting his heart rate calm down a little bit. 

Behind him, Madhavi snorts. "Only three reps?" she asks, voice barely strained. "Damn. You gotta be somewhere today, Gabe?" 

He opens his eyes and turns back toward her, watching as she finishes off her pull-ups and drops back to the floor, wiping her hands off on the legs of her pants. "Bunny couldn't make it in today," he says, "and I don't wanna leave Shaw and Cole alone for too long." He pauses. "Well, and Stef said their brother was gonna come by and pick somethin' up for them for lunch, so I wanna be there to take care of that." 

She arches an eyebrow at him, lips spreading into an open-mouthed smirk. "Oh? An' how _is_ Stef these days, Gabe?"

He shrugs, walking over to the bench and picking up his gym bag, fishing around in it for his water bottle. "Pretty good, I think! We've been textin' a lot lately. It's nice. You know I'm not really a textin' sort of person. I usually like calling or seein' people face-to-face. That kinda thing." He shoulders the bag, turning back toward her, and he can feel the wide smile on his own face. "Textin' Stef's pretty fun, though. They can't spell _at all,_ which is weird since they're a _teacher,_ but I think they just type so _fast_ they don't pay attention to what they're _actually_ typing, you know? It's kinda hard to decipher sometimes, but it's... kinda cute, I think." He takes a sip of water.

Madhavi's smirk widens even _more,_ somehow, and then she asks, "So, when'd they ask you out?"

Gabe inhales sharply, water flooding his sinuses, and he chokes, coughing water out onto the floor and nearly dropping the bottle. "What?" he manages, throat raw.

Madhavi _laughs,_ full-on deep laughter with her head thrown back, and she closes the distance between them to thump him on the back. "Don't fuckin' _die,_ Gabe, I don't wanna have to tell your kid I killed her dad!"

Once Gabe manages to re-cap his water bottle and calm himself back down, he asks again, "What are you _talking_ about? Stef hasn't-- we aren't _dating."_

She makes a face. "Why the fuck not?"

"We just--" He pauses. "Wait. Why did you ask if _Stef_ had asked _me_ out? Do you know something I don't?"

Madhavi's eyes widen for a split second, and then she shrugs, putting her hands on her hips and turning away nonchalantly. "I mean, it's a simple question. You're so _into_ this whole _textin'_ thing. Like a goddamn _kid._ Not much of a jump to think maybe you're _datin',_ ya know?"

Gabe sighs, but he doesn't say anything. If his crush on Stef really is _that_ noticeable, then he's gonna have to bite the bullet and ask them out sooner rather than later.

**Saturday, February 8.**

The diner's decorated today, Stef notices with a start as they step inside.

There's little paper hearts stuck to the walls, pink glittery ornaments hanging from the ceiling, vases of cute little roses on each table. It's _adorable,_ and reminds them of their own classroom, all pink and white and red for Valentine's Day.

"It was like this on Wednesday too," Marco says when they mention it to him, as they slide into their seats. "Kinda tacky. Cute, though."

"Stef, you made it!" 

Stef turns in their seat and beams at the gorgeous Gabe Martín as he hurries over to their booth from the kitchen. He's still got his hair bundled up in his hairnet, his apron tied snugly around his waist, and from how full the dining room is, Stef's pretty sure they're not gonna get to spend much time with him today. 

Still, even these few minutes Stef gets to see him are nice.

"Hey, Gabe!" they call, wiggling their fingers at him, and across the table, Marco snorts. Stef kicks him gently in the shin.

"Good to see you!" Gabe says, stopping by their table. "I was hoping you'd show up soon. I just finished baking a strawberry pie. Is that something you'd wanna try? I'll go get you a slice right now. On the house. Oh-- and you too, of course, Marco."

Stef's trying _very_ hard not to laugh, curling their fingers against their mouth as he talks. He's frickin' _cute!_ And eager to please. Gosh, how weird would it be to ask him out _right now?_ Probably _super_ weird. So they're not going to.

"We'd _love_ some pie, Gabe, thank you." They tilt their head to the side, dropping their cheek into the palm of their hand to gaze up at him. "It's too bad you can't sit and have some with us, but you look pretty busy."

"Yeah." He looks pretty disappointed, too. Which is _ridiculous,_ since every butt in every seat is another dollar in Gabe's pocket. "Sorry, it's busy today." He brightens then. "I'm interviewing new people soon, though, so we should have a few more helping hands around here, and then I can hang out with you anytime you come in! Uh. You know. If you want to."

Oh _gosh_ he's adorable. "Gabe," Stef says sincerely, "I would _love_ for you to sit with me. You're _always_ welcome at my table."

He beams at them, and Marco coughs into his hand. Gabe blinks. "Oh, right! The pie! Uh, be right back!"

And then he's gone again. _Drat._

"Pie," Marco mutters, and Stef turns to glare at him. He shrugs, eyes twinkling. "The guy's clearly into you," he says. "Whaddaya got to lose?"

The huff, blowing a strand of hair out of their face. Gabe _likes_ them! Probably. "Nothin', I guess. But it's not the right _time,_ I'm not gonna ask 'im out _here_ while everything's so busy! An' I'm _definitely_ not askin' 'im out over _text."_

"Whatever," Marco says, "Just stop makin' _goo-goo eyes_ at 'im if you're not gonna do anythin' about it."

"Here ya go!" Gabe says, startling Stef so badly they nearly knock their silverware off the table. "Oops, sorry, didn't mean to scare ya." He sets two plates down, each with a perfect slice of strawberry pie resting atop it. Stef's mouth waters at the sight (and only a little because of how close to Stef Gabe had to lean to set the plates down; it's at least _mostly_ because of the pie itself! They swear!). 

"Looks frickin' _delicious,_ Gabe!" they say, picking up their fork. "Love what you've done with the place, by the way. Very festive."

"Thanks!" He beams at them. "Lola helped me with it. We're doing a special event on Valentine's Day, and I thought it'd be fun if, you know, it looked more Valentines-y."

"Event?" Stef takes a bite of the pie. They chew. "Oh my _gosh,_ Gabe, this is so _good!_ Not that I'd expect anything less from talented hands like yours."

Gabe's cheeks darken in what's _gotta_ be a proud flush. So _cute!_ "Thanks!" He says. "Uh, yeah! Just a little, like, sales event thing, I guess. Couples get half off on Valentine's Day! I wanted to do something like a game or something for people to participate in, but, well, we don't have enough staff to run something like that, and I don't know if I'll have new workers by then, so--"

There's a loud banging and clattering from the direction of the kitchen, followed by muffled swearing, and Gabe pales.

"Shit," he hisses. "Uh, sorry, I've gotta get back to work, uh-- enjoy the pie! I'll send Shaw over with menus in a bit if you want something else! I--" There's another _clang_ from the kitchen, and he turns abruptly, rushing away.

Stef sighs as he goes. Well, at least they got to chat with him a little.

Marco snorts at them again from across the table.

**Friday, February 14.**

"Daddy, is Sarah here yet?!" 

"Uh, I don't think so, kiddo," Gabe says, without looking up from his paperwork. "Her mom's supposed to text me when they're here, and I haven't gotten anything yet."

"Okay." Georgie bounces into the chair on the opposite side of his desk. "Tell me as soon's you get it though, okay?!"

He laughs, setting his pen down and looking up at her. Georgie's been waiting for this _all day,_ probably distracted during class today, too. He's glad to give her the chance to spend some time with her friend-- still not able to keep them both overnight at their own house, but more than willing to let Georgie spend the night at Sarah's. 

"I'll let you know," he agrees. He sets an unopened notebook on top of his stack of paperwork; may as well do that later, after she's left, than right now.

"Me an' Sarah are workin' on a project!" Georgie exclaims, kicking her feet in excitement. "It's gonna be _so_ cool, you're gonna _love_ it!"

"Oh?" He folds his hands on top of the notebook and leans in close to her. "What kind of project _is_ this, my little Georgia peach?"

She smirks at him, lifting her chin up and watching him from the corner of her eye. "Not telling," she says. "You'll find out when we're _all_ done, but trust me, daddy, you're gonna _love_ it!"

He laughs again, shaking his head. "I'm sure I will. You have fun, kiddo." It's probably another comic book or something. Georgie and Sarah have been spending a lot of time working on different comics and other projects together lately, he's been told. He's proud of her.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to look at the screen. 

"Is it them?!" Georgie asks, leaping out of her seat. "Are they here? Is it time to go?!"

"Yeah, they're in the parking lot," Gabe says, standing up as well and tucking his phone away again. "C'mon, grab your coat and your bag, I'll walk you out."

They leave his office and pass through the dining room, which is starting to fill up as couples come in for dinner, fully ready to take advantage of his Valentine's Day 50% off special. He can't help but grin; he's proud of himself and his staff.

Himari's just finishing up at a table near the door, and turns to see them. "Oh! Hey, Mr. Martín! Leavin' already?"

He smiles at them. "Nah, just taking Georgie out to meet her friend. I'll be back in a couple minutes. If you need something in the meantime, ask Cole or Shaw!" He lifts his hand in a half-wave and pushes the door open , heading out into the late-afternoon chill.

He'd finally managed to hire a couple of new people to help out in the diner, and today is their first day. Himari, a cheerful and talkative person, will be working the dining room along with Shaw and Bunny, which should help lighten their loads and allow for more time off for the both of them, and Taiki, a tall, quiet man, will be helping out in the kitchen, which should allow Gabe more time to actually _run the business,_ as well as spend more time with Georgie. He's looking forward to the changes, though he's sure he'll miss spending so much time in the kitchen.

He passes Georgie off to Sarah and her mother with a wave and a kiss goodbye, and then he heads back inside to get back to work.

\-----

> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: you better get here soon steffie baby, the diner's fillin up quick!
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: hang on im on my way out theh door i just gottas fix my hair 
> 
> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: i'll save a table for you, but get here QUICK!
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: im vcoming!!! hold your horses
> 
> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: i'm not the one asking out a hot guy tonight!
> 
> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: ...well, i MIGHT. it IS valentine's day after all.
> 
> **FROM:** ✨show pony✨: but anyway this is about YOU and GABE so HURRY IT UP!!
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: im in the car!!
> 
> **TO:** ✨show pony✨: see you ssoon!

\-----

Gabe should really stop _not_ expecting to see Stef at the diner, honestly. 

The diner's been _packed_ all evening, and even with the new workers, he's been rushing around between the kitchen and the dining room. His hair feels damp and matted, and the little red paper heart Shaw had pinned to his apron earlier is a little wilted from the heat and sweat and steam. He's doing his best to play both the friendly host and the competent chef, glad that at least he doesn't have to worry about Georgie being bored and lonely tonight, glad that there's only a couple more hours until closing, and then on his sixth trip from the kitchen to the dining room, he pauses on the threshold, meeting the eye of none other than Stef.

"Oh," he says, and then grins, crossing the short expanse of tile to the counter, where Stef's seated closest to the till, smiling right back at him. "Stef! I didn't-- I mean, it's-- uh. Hi!"

"Hi." Stef sounds amused, their eyebrow quirking up at him. Their hair's pulled back into a short ponytail tonight, just a few strands left hanging to softly frame their face. They're wearing more makeup than usual, too, he notices; he's seen them with eyeshadow and eyeliner and lipstick, but tonight their lips are a red bright enough to match their hair, pink glitter spread over their cheekbones and their eyelids. Their clothes aren't much flashier than usual, but their makeup combined with their soft white sweater printed with little red hearts all over it makes them look very festive.

They're gorgeous.

"Are you here alone?" he asks, which is kind of stupid because they're sitting at the _counter,_ _alone,_ but maybe their brother and Dante are seated somewhere in the dining room? Or-- or maybe they're on a _date,_ a _Valentine's date,_ and they just stopped by the counter to say hi?!

No, that's stupid, Stef would have texted him if they had a date tonight, and anyway he's pretty sure they're interested in _him._

Hopefully.

"Yeah, just me," Stef confirms, propping their elbows on the counter and placing their chin on their folded hands. "Looks like your event's pretty successful! You must be busy, so don't let me keep you."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, right!" He can't just stand here chatting with them, even though he _really_ wants to. He's got a business to run. "I'll be back, though!" he says, taking a step back. "Um, whoever takes your order, just let them know you get the Valentine's discount!"

Stef blinks. "Isn't that just for couples?" 

"Uh. Yes." He feels his cheeks heat. "But, you-- Well! Just tell them!" He turns away to get back to work, then pauses, calling over his shoulder, "You look great, by the way!"

He hurries off before he can hear Stef's response.

\-----

Stef's too caught up in _feelings_ to notice when Shaw skates up beside them until ae puts aer arm around their shoulders and pulls them close to aer chest. 

"Stef," ae says, and Stef can hear the grin in aer voice without even looking, "what did you even _say_ to Mr. Boss-Man that made him _blush_ like that?! Did you ask him out _already?!"_

"No!" Stef leans away out of aer grip, turning in their seat to face aer. "He's _busy,_ I'm not gonna _ask him out_ while he's rushin' around like this!"

Shaw nods. "Yeah, this is _absolutely_ not the time for that. Or the place!"

They shoot aer a look. "You said tonight at the diner would be the perfect time to do it!"

Ae rolls aer eyes. "It _is,_ " ae says. "But not _now,_ while he's busy, and not _here,_ at the goddamn _counter!_ There's no romance _whatsoever!"_ Ae backs away, pulling Stef out of the seat with aer, and skates backward. "Come on, come on, a table just opened up!"

Stef allows aer to take them to a booth toward the back of the diner, on the opposite end of the room from where they usually sit. The table's still covered in someone else's dirty plates, but Shaw quickly clears those away. "I'll be back in a few minutes," ae says. "You sit here and contemplate your plan of attack!"

"Attack," Stef snorts, but ae's already gone.

\-----

Stef's gone the next time Gabe stops by the counter, someone else seated in the place they'd been, and he can't help the disappointment that floods his system. 

They'd _left?_ Why would they leave without saying goodbye? Oh, shit, did something happen? He digs his phone out of his pocket and quickly checks it, but the only new notification is a text from Madhavi. 

Why did they _leave?_

"Gabe!" Shaw's voice startles him, and he turns toward aer, blinking. "You need a break!"

"I'm fine," he says, confused. "There's not much longer 'til closing, I can finish up--"

"No!" Shaw darts forward, grabbing his wrist. "Gabe, darling, _you need a break._ Now, come with me! You're going to sit down for a bit and have a meal!"

Shaw ignores his protests, pulling him through the dining room and over to one of the more hidden back booths. Ae shoves him none too delicately into the seat, and he finds himself looking yet again into Stef's eyes.

"Stef!" he exclaims, sitting up straight. "Oh, damn, I thought you'd left!"

"Why would I leave without saying goodbye?" Stef asks, and they tilt their head just slightly to the left.

"That's what _I_ was trying to figure out," he says, letting out a little laugh of relief. "I just, you weren't at the counter, so--"

"Yeah, sorry, Shaw gave me this booth when it cleared up." The light overhead catches the glitter on their cheekbones as they shift. "So, you're on break?"

"I guess so. Unless they get too busy in the kitchen again." He pauses, then leans forward, dropping his arm onto the table. "I honestly wasn't expecting to see you here tonight."

"No? Well, I can always _leave,"_ they say, tone and expression teasing.

He kind of wants to ask them to leave _with him,_ go someplace quieter, someplace more interesting than the diner they always seem to meet at. "No, no," he says. "I'm glad you're here."

_"Are_ you? Well, I mean, why _wouldn't_ you be? I _am_ pretty amazing," they say, and there's no hint of the teasing their voice had held just a moment ago.

"Yeah," he says, feeling a little breathless. "You are."

A strange silence falls between them then, as they watch each other across the table. It's not _uncomfortable,_ but there's a tension to it, and he knows they can both feel it. Gabe feels like he needs to break it, somehow, but his tongue feels heavy and frozen in his mouth, and he can't form words. 

A quiet clatter from his left as Shaw returns, setting a pair of plates down on the table. "Sorry to interrupt," ae says. "Two Valentine's specials! Gabe, darling, things are starting to slow down, so feel free to just sit here and enjoy yourself, hm?" Ae throws a wink at Gabe, and shoots a look he can't quite see at Stef, and then ae's gone as quickly as ae'd arrived.

The tension is gone, the palpable feeling of _something_ disappearing before either of them could really do anything to change it themselves. Stef picks up their fork. 

"Spaghetti?" they say. "Well, that's fitting, isn't it?"

Gabe shakes his head, letting out a quiet chuckle. "Georgie suggested I make it the special today," he tells them. "She watched _Lady and the Tramp_ the other day and thought it would be _romantic."_

"Really?" Stef laughs, too, twirling spaghetti on their fork. "That sounds like somethin' she'd do. And it's frickin' _cute."_

"Yeah! Georgie has great ideas. I probably wouldn't have even _thought_ of opening a diner if not for her, you know?"

"Really?" Stef watches him as the two of them eat. "Why not?"

"It was a couple years ago," he says, "when she was just turning seven. We had a big party, with a bunch of her friends from school, all their parents, and of course our own family. I thought it'd be fun to make everything from scratch instead of just picking things up from the grocery store, like we usually would do, and I made a whole _huge_ meal for everyone." He smiles, remembering all the hard work that had gone into it; he'd been working in the restaurant industry for a good long while before then, but that was still the first time he'd done something that big all by himself. "It was a huge hit. Everyone loved the food I'd made. It was... well, it felt pretty good, you know?"

"And so that made you want to open up your own place?"

"Sort of." He takes a sip of his water. "After the party, when we were cleaning up, Georgie came up to me and she said, 'Daddy, I think you should have your own restaurant, so you can make everyone happy every day.'" 

"Aw," Stef coos. "That's sweet!"

"Yeah. And I mean, I already knew I liked making food for people before that, you know, I already worked that sort of job. But she made me realize that I wanted to do something _bigger_ than just working in a kitchen. I wanted to be a part of the whole _business,_ from the cooking to the cleaning to the waiting to the bookkeeping." He smiles at Stef, who's watching him like he's the most fascinating person on the planet. He knows that feeling. "I didn't jump straight to _restaurant owner,"_ he continues, "but I decided that would be my goal, and Georgie's been there for me every step of the way."

"Adorable," Stef says. "Do you think she'll take over the diner from you one day?"

He laughs a little. "I don't know. She likes watching me cook, likes baking cookies and the other easy stuff I let her try, but she's only nine, and she's got lots of other interests, anyway. I'm not goin' into this with any expectations of that kinda thing."

"I get that," Stef says. "I'm glad Georgie's got a dad like you. She's a good kid. She deserves the best."

He feels himself flush with pride. "Aw, I'm not the _best,_ " he says. "I just... you know, try to do what's best for her."

Stef hums quietly. "I meet a lot of parents in my line of work," they say. "And every year, I'm shocked by the number of them that seem to have their kids' whole lives planned out for them, right down to their future careers. Shoot, my parents tried to do that to me an' Marco, too. And it's like... they're _kids._ They don't know what they want yet. How should _you_ know what they're gonna need when they're _adults?"_ They shake their head. "What I'm tryin' to say is that you're one of the good ones, Gabe Martín."

And hearing that really shouldn't make him feel as happy as it does, but it _does,_ and the way Stef's smiling at him across the table just makes the butterflies in his stomach that much harder to ignore.

He clears his throat. "So. You, uh-- how's your day been? At the school, and stuff?"

Stef launches into a story about some science demonstration involving a gallon of water they were showing the kids today, which leads into a story about their upcoming first lunchtime D&D club with the kids next week, and Gabe listens to them talk, eating his dinner and watching them talk.

He feels like he could do this for hours.

\-----

Stef's completely unaware of the passage of time until they look up mid-story and realize the diner's completely empty.

"Oh _dang,"_ they say. "How long have we _been_ here?"

Gabe looks around, apparently just noticing the quiet, too. "Uh. A while, I guess," he says, shooting them a sheepish look. He glances down at his phone. "Oh, shit, we've been closed for half an hour! I-- I should go help clean up--" 

He sort of half-stands to slide out of the booth, but Stef must be making a face, because when he glances at them, he sits right back down. "Well... I mean, I'm sure they can handle clean-up by themselves for a while...."

They beam at him. "Yeah, why don't we just... sit here a while longer." 

Gabe looks much better than he had when they'd first arrived, his hairnet discarded at some point during their conversation and his curls slowly regaining their usual loveliness. He's been smiling the whole time he's been sitting here, and they can't help but wonder if his cheeks hurt the way theirs do.

He shifts in the booth, his hair falling _just so_ against his neck, and Stef can't help but follow the line of his neck to his jaw with their eyes, wondering if his stubble would feel as nice against their palms as it looks, and then their eyes find his lips, and they swallow.

If they don't ask him out _now,_ they're afraid they never will. 

They open their mouth to do just that-- but then they close it again, afraid.

When had they become _afraid_ to ask someone out? Why are they so afraid of asking _Gabe_ out?

They tear their gaze away from his lips up to his eyes, only to find _his_ gaze pointed ever so slightly downward, and their breath hitches in their throat.

It's _clear_ that he's as interested in them as they are in him. So what's holding them back? Why can't they make that final leap?

"So," Gabe says, breaking them out of their reverie. His eyes meet theirs again. "Valentine's Day, huh?"

"Valentine's Day," Stef agrees, feeling strangely breathless."It's-- a once-a-year thing, huh?"

"Yeah." Gabe shifts in his seat, leaning over the table, his face close enough that Stef could--

They move forward without even realizing it, close enough that they can feel his breath against their lips, and they can't look away from those warm brown eyes, and suddenly...

Suddenly all their fears and apprehensions seem to just melt away. 

Stef lifts their hand from the table and cups his cheek in their hand, taking just the barest of seconds to marvel at the rough feeling of his stubble on their skin, to note the way his eyes seem to _light up,_ and then they close the distance between them, tilting his face toward theirs and pressing their lips to his.

The kiss doesn't last long, but when they pull away, Stef sees their own excitement and _happiness_ mirrored on Gabe's face.

"Wow," he whispers, sounding frickin' _drunk,_ which is _ridiculous_ because he's been drinking water all night and they _barely_ kissed him! "Wow," he says again. "I-- Stef. I wanted to do that for a long time."

"What?" they ask, keeping their hand on his cheek, moving their thumb across his stubble to the corner of his mouth. "Kiss me?"

"Yeah," he says, and stretches farther across the table to kiss them again.

"This is _stupid,"_ Stef giggles when they pull apart the second time. They quickly stand up, noting the disappointment that flickers across Gabe's face, and then slide into his side of the booth. "That stupid table's too big to--"

He kisses them again, his hand coming up to rest on the side of their neck, holding them close, and Stef _laughs_ into the kiss, delighted and excited and maybe a little _in love,_ even if it's too early to even think that.

"Do you wanna--" Gabe starts, but Stef kisses him a fourth time. They nip at his lower lip, and he gasps quietly, tugging them closer.

"--go out with you sometime? Yes." Stef says when they pull away, and they reach down to find his hand, clasping it in theirs. A fifth kiss.

"Do you wanna be my--" Six.

"--datemate? Yeah, absolutely." Seven.

Eight, nine, ten. Stef loses count, decides that when one kiss leads directly into another, there's no point in trying to separate them anyway. Kissing Gabe is just like they'd pictured it, his lips in turns soft and careful, firm and insistent, his strong hands on their neck, their arms, their waist, his hair brushing against their cheek.

They don't really ever want to _stop_ kissing Gabe, but if they _don't_ then they're gonna be here all night, and while they don't really see a _problem_ with that, Stef figures they've got to be responsible every once in a while. 

They pull away, only to lean forward again and press their face into the crook of his neck, placing a single chaste kiss there. "We're gonna talk later," they murmur against his skin. "But--" they sit up, Gabe's hands still on their waist, his eyes bright, lips smeared with their lipstick. It's a darn good look on him. "But, for now-- I think you've got stuff to do, and I've gotta get home."

"Yeah," he mumbles, hands leaving their waist to catch their hands again. "I-- this wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing," he says, more clearly now. "For me, I mean. I wanted to date you for a while now, I just wasn't really-- _sure,_ if that was something that _you--"_

"Yeah," they say, turning his hands in theirs so they can interlock their fingers. "Yeah, Gabe, I get it. But it's not a sudden thing for me, either. I want you to be my boyfriend."

His smile widens, and Stef wants to kiss him again, but they manage to hold themself in check. "Then I'm your boyfriend," he says, sending butterflies fluttering around in their stomach again. "Do you-- should I take you home? Is this a date? Uh--"

They laugh, squeezing his hands. "I'll see you tomorrow," they say, sliding backwards out of the booth, keeping their grip on his hands until they're forced to let go. "You've got stuff to do, and I'll text you later."

He hurries to stand, too, taking their hand again. "Let me at least walk you to the door!"

And he does, pausing to kiss them one more time as they push the door open, a sweet kiss good night, and Stef thinks that dating Gabe might be the best decision of their life.

They catch a glimpse of Shaw as they leave, a stupid satisfied grin on aer stupid smug face as ae peers at them from the kitchen doorway.

Stef flips aer off through the window, feeling way too dang pleased with themself.

**Saturday, February 15.**

"You're _dating_ Mx. _Campbell?!"_ Georgie exclaims from the backseat as Gabe drives her back home from Sarah's house.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, trying not to vibrate out of his own skin as he tries to figure out how to respond. He and Stef had had a long conversation last night and this morning about what it meant to be _boyfriend and datemate,_ what it meant for the two of _them_ and what it meant for _Georgie,_ and they'd come to the decision that if Georgie was adamantly against their relationship, they'd go back to being _just friends._

Gabe hadn't _really_ thought that Georgie would have anything against it, but the alarm in her tone suggests that he may have been wrong. He hopes he can win her over to the idea. He _really_ hopes he can, because while he'd do _anything_ for his daughter, he'd also _really like_ to actually date Stef beyond a few stolen kisses on Valentine's Day.

"Yes," he tells her. "I... I really like them, Georgie. I'd like to see more of them, and see where it goes."

"But I can't believe you just went an' started _dating_ them without _tellin'_ me first!" Georgie exclaims, and he can see her crossing her arms over her chest and puffing up her cheeks in the rearview mirror.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he says. "I wasn't planning on asking them to be my datemate last night. If I had, I _for sure_ would have asked you first." He pauses, glancing into the rearview mirror again, thinks that maybe the car wasn't the best place to have this conversation. "Are you okay with it? With me dating your teacher?"

"Of _course_ I am!" She says, leaning forward. "But, daddy, it's not _fair!"_

"What's not fair, Georgie?" he asks, now thoroughly confused.

"Me an' Sarah had a _whole thing_ planned out to get you an' Stef together! We put the finishin' touches on it _last night,_ an' now we don't even get to _do it!"_ She sighs, loud and exaggerated, shakes her head. "Now I gotta text _all_ my friends an' tell 'em _not_ to put all those posters around the school! Everyone's gonna be so _disappointed!_ Tyler was gonna make a cake an' _everything!"_

Gabe laughs so hard he has to pull over. Well, that's one less thing to worry about.

**Wednesday, February 19.**

Stef's been a little distracted the past few days, every idle moment causing their thoughts to go off in the direction of _Gabe_ and the fact that they have _an actual_ goshdang _boyfriend_ now!

It's a bit of a problem when dealing with a classroom full of fourth graders, but luckily they've managed to keep enough of their wits about them that nothing _terrible_ has happened. Losing an entire tray of Oreos by unthinkingly dumping them into the trashcan and causing a riot of nine-year-olds hadn't been _great,_ but they'd survived.

It also doesn't help matters that the object of their affection's _kid_ is in their class and keeps shooting them _looks._ Gabe had told them all about Georgie and Sarah's plan, and how apparently they'd managed to get most of the class in on their matchmaking shenanigans, and while Stef is _flattered_ , they _really_ don't know how to deal with the knowledge that their entire classroom of _fourth graders_ was trying to get them together with Gabe.

They _really_ must not have been subtle about their feelings, huh?

Still, the week's gone on relatively normally, with nothing too bad happening (Oreo mishap aside). Today, though, is the day they've been preparing for for _months:_ the first day of their lunchtime D&D club.

They've got everything planned out (or as much as they could get planned out ahead of time), and when the lunch bell rings, it's easy enough to scoop up their binder and dice bag and get everything set up at the back table in their classroom.

They have six kids who'll be joining them today, which they think is a pretty good number, considering the other clubs are more well-established and easier for kids without a prior knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons to have an interest in, like Lego club and book club. 

A few minutes after Stef's got everything set up, the kids start trickling in with their lunch trays. There's three kids from Stef's own class: Ava, Sarah, and, unsurprisingly, Georgie. Two kids from Korse's class, Chess and Arnie, show up together, looking a little nervous. The sixth member is a third grader named Benson, who seems even bouncier and more excitable than Georgie. 

Stef thinks they'll all do just fine.

"So," they ask once everyone's settled down with their lunch, "who here has played Dungeons and Dragons before?"

Everyone's hands go up, except for Sarah's. Stef nods, and launches into an explanation of the game. They've stripped the game down to its bare essentials, making the rules much simpler to understand and switching everything to work with either a 20-sided die or the standard 6-sided. There's still plenty of math to do (Stef had, after all, gotten the school board to agree to their club by telling them it was a game of math and problem-solving), but it'll end up being simple addition and subtraction.

"...and you get to create your own characters however you like!" Stef says, opening their binder and pulling out the simplified character sheets they'd made. They pass them out, and the kids all excitedly start reading over it. "You can be any kind of monster or magical creature you want," they continue, "and we'll figure out what your numbers are for skills and such together."

Georgie raises her hand. "Can I be a mind flayer?" she asks excitedly, and Stef blinks.

"Uh," they say. "Um, sure! We can figure out the numbers for that!" A _mind flayer?_ Gabe must have a monster manual laying around his house somewhere. Stef had been expecting ogres and orcs and elves and mermaids, not _mind flayers._ Still, it's not something they can't work with. 

"Can I be a fairy princess?" Sarah pipes up beside her, and Stef stifles a sigh of relief at something closer to their expectations.

"Of course you can!" they say.

The rest of the lunch period is spent generating ideas for characters and figuring out what sort of adventure the kids want to take their characters on, and then Stef sends them each off with their character sheet and a packet of rules and tips for them to look over.

Georgie waits by Stef's seat as they put away their things.

"Mx. Campbell," she asks slowly, and Stef pauses in their task, turning to face her. 

"Hm? What's up, Georgie?"

"Now that you and my daddy are dating," she says, and Stef can't help the little thrill that shoots through them, "do you wanna play a game with us sometime? We play D an' D sometimes, and we have Clue and Sorry, and some other stuff. We don't get to play a lot because he's busy or tired usually, but maybe the next time we play, you could come over an' play, too?"

Stef feels their expression soften. "I'll talk to your daddy about it later," they say. "But it sounds like lots of fun!"

Georgie perks up. "Okay!" she says, bouncing on her toes. "Thanks, St--er, Mx. Campbell! We're gonna have _so much fun!"_

Stef watches as she hurries off to return her tray to the lunch room. Georgie's absolutely _adorable._

\-----

"So," Madhavi says with a wide grin when he walks into the gym, "Simon tells me you _finally_ hooked up with Stef, huh? Congrats, man!"

"Don't call me _'man,'_ " Gabe says, making a face. "And we didn't _hook up,_ we're _dating_ now!" He drops his bag on the bench.

"Mm-hm." Madhavi raises an eyebrow at him, trying to look serious, and then breaks into a laugh. "Seriously, though, congrats! Maybe now you'll stop skippin' leg day, huh?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothin', nothin'." She grabs his forearm and pulls him over to the weight rack to help her select her weights and set up her workout station. "Anyway! I know ya got Lola an' Kai on speed dial for all your babysittin' needs, but if they're not available, I just wanted you to know that me an' Simon're always willin' to watch the kid if you got a date." Her grin turns mischievous. "We've got the space to take 'er overnight, too, if, _ya know..."_ She waggles her eyebrows.

Gabe feels his face heat up, and he ducks his head, clears his throat. "Uh," he says. "Good to know. Thanks."

Madhavi laughs and teases him the whole time they work out together.

Saturday, February 22.

Gabe stands in front of the mirror, tugging on the hem of his shirt. He's not usually too concerned with what he wears, because he's usually wearing an apron that covers his shirt, and anyway, the heat from the kitchen and the sweat he inevitably finds himself covered in don't make for a pretty picture, regardless of how nice his clothes are, but tonight... well, tonight's a special occasion.

Tonight's his first date with Stef.

He knows Stef's not going to _mind_ if he shows up wearing his usual T-shirt and jeans, but he still wants to look nice. Besides, it's been too long since he wore one of his favorite shirts.

So, tonight he's put on his white button-up that's covered in a print of little pink flamingos. It's a little too gauzy for him to be really comfortable with, so he's wearing it over a pink tie-dyed muscle shirt Georgie had made for him last year for his birthday. He stares at himself in the mirror. Is this appropriate date attire? Are his jeans--a nicer pair he rarely wears--too casual? Is the _tie-dye_ too casual? What even _is_ "too casual?" Stef hadn't told him where they were going, so he doesn't know if this is going to be, like, a _fancy_ date or _what._

God, he hasn't been this nervous about a date... well, _ever,_ really. Ugh, this is stupid. Stef's not going to think any less of him if it's not quite appropriate. They wear _rainbow sequin tank tops_ on a casual night out with their _brother._ It'll be _fine._

Gabe's just finishing up putting some product in his hair when he hears the bathroom door creak open. He turns to find Georgie peering in at him, one hand clutching the doorknob. She looks him over, head tilting to the side, and then she nods once, decisively, and grins. "You look _so freaking wonderful,_ daddy."

He laughs, opening his arms and gathering her into a big hug. "Thanks, Georgie," he says. "You think Stef'll like it?"

"Stef'll _love_ it," she says. She pulls away from him, looks him over again. Her eyes narrow. "You need makeup," she says.

"Oh, I don't know. I haven't worn any in _so long._ "

"Just some eyeshadow?" Georgie begs. "Pleeeeease? Please can I put some eyeshadow on you?!"

"Well," he says. Surely _eyeshadow_ won't make or break the outfit, right? And, well, he can't really deny her anything when she looks at him like _that,_ her lower lip jutted out in a pout and her eyes wide, puppy-dog-like. He sighs, and smiles at her. "Okay, okay. _A little_ eyeshadow. Go get my makeup case, okay?"

"Yay!" Georgie runs off immediately, and he settles himself on the toilet seat to await her return. 

She's carefully smearing neon pink eyeshadow he'd completely forgotten he _had_ over his eyelids when there's a knock at the front door. She pauses, then looks at him, eyes wide. "D'you think that's Stef?" she asks. "Or Lola and Kai?"

"I don't know," he says. He feels like his heart's about to beat out of his chest. "Why don't you go get the door, and I'll finish up in here, okay?"

Gabe stashes his makeup bag in a drawer and peers into the mirror again. Is the eyeshadow too much? No, no, it looks good. It looks like he's _trying,_ and that _can't_ be bad. Right?

Ugh, when did he get so _nervous_ about this kind of thing?!

"Gabe?"

Oh, thank _God._ It's Kai, not Stef. He still has time to freak out. Wait, shit, that's not a good thing!

"Right here," he calls, tearing himself away from the mirror and stepping out into the narrow hallway. 

Georgie squeezes past him to her room to grab her bag, and he can see Kai in the living room, watching him. 

"Ready for your _date,_ dude?" Kai's easy grin spreads across his face. 

"Yeah. Definitely not nervous or anything," Gabe says as he steps out into the living room, tugging on the hem of his shirt again.

"You don't hafta be nervous, man, you're gonna have, like, a great time."

Gabe politely ignores his word choice and just shakes his head. "Oh, like _you_ weren't nervous on your first date with _Lola."_

"Nope." Kai's eyes get a faraway look in them. "Didn't even know it was a date 'til later. Heh. Didn't have the time to be nervous."

"You didn't know it was a _date?"_

"Nah. I'm not great at pickin' up hints. Or puttin' pieces together." He shrugs. "Anyway, I got Sam waitin' in the car, so I guess I'll take Georgie an' get goin'."

"Yeah, uh, sure!" Georgie emerges from the hallway just then, her little yellow backpack clutched in her hand. "Tell Sam and Lola hi for me, and thanks again!"

"No problem, dude." Kai puts his hand on Georgie's shoulder. "We love havin' Georgie over. Think Lola said somethin' about, uh... some kinda art project?" He shrugs. "Anyway. Call us if you're gonna be late pickin' her up."

"Bye, Daddy!" Georgie wraps her arms around his legs. "Have fun, okay? Tell me _all_ about it when you pick me up later! I wanna know _everything!"_

"Well," says Gabe, ruffling her hair, "I'll tell you the most _interesting_ parts of the date, okay?" And kid-friendly.

"Okay!" Georgie stretches up on her tiptoes, and Gabe leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. 

"Have fun, kiddo," he says. "And thanks again, Kai!"

And then they're gone, and Gabe's left alone to wait.

He picks up his wallet and keys. Wait, whose car are they taking? He sets the keys down. He still has to _lock his house._ He picks the keys back up. The eyeshadow is probably too much, right? He should go wash it off.

Before he can even take a single step toward the bathroom, there's another knock at the door.

Gabe freezes, his heart hammering in his chest. Shit, that's _gotta_ be Stef this time, right? Fuck, wait, he's not ready, he can't do this, he probably looks _terrible_ , Stef's gonna take one look at him and _leave,_ or maybe he's just gonna be a terrible date and Stef's gonna be bored the whole time, or maybe he--

Calm down, Gabe. Breathe. _Breathe._

He exhales slowly, then straightens his shoulders and calls, "Coming!" He hurries over to the door and pulls it open.

Stef's standing on his doorstep, with the light of the setting sun catching in their hair and painting their skin gold. His breath catches in his throat again, but he can feel himself grinning, can feel the anxiety melting away at just the sight of them.

"Hi," he says.

"Holy macaroni _,_ Gabe, you clean up _nice!"_ Stef exclaims, stepping up close to put their hands on the collar of his shirt. They look him up and down. _"Flamingos?_ And _tie-dye?_ Gabe Martín, you are _full_ of surprises!" They lean in closer, and he prepares himself for one of their frankly _amazing_ kisses, but instead, they exclaim, _"Eyeshadow?!_ You are going _all out_ for this, and I _love_ it!"

He laughs, relief flooding through him. "Thanks," he says. "I thought this would be a good opportunity to break out some of my favorite clothes. Georgie thought the eyeshadow would be a good touch."

"She was _right,"_ Stef says, sounding a little breathless. "I kinda thought barbecue dad was your whole aesthetic, but I am _very_ into this."

He kisses them. Just a little peck, but it's all that's necessary, and they grin at each other.

Gabe has no doubt tonight's going to be a good one.

\----- 

"I didn't even know there was an art gallery in town," Gabe says, and Stef takes note of the sharp intake of breath as the two of them enter the building.

It's not a particularly large gallery, of course, but it's _full_ of art by local artists, and it's one of Stef's favorite places.

It's been a while since they were last here, so the art's completely different this time around, but that just means that the two of them get to see it all together for the first time.

Stef lets Gabe take the lead, and follows him to the first painting he gravitates toward.

"I'm always amazed at what artists can come up with," he says, and Stef steps up beside him, their shoulder brushing against his as they look it over. 

The painting is of a garden scene, mostly greens and blues, with bold lines and swirls that give it a whimsical look. Their eyes are drawn to a snail toward the center of the garden, the only thing not green or blue, but instead painted in different shades of brown. "I mean, if _I_ looked at a garden, I wouldn't see _this._ I'd just see leaves and grass. But this is... something else. And I love it." He laughs quietly, and Stef thinks they can hear a note of embarrassment in his voice, so they turn away from the painting and look at him. 

"Sorry," he says, still looking at it. "I feel like you're supposed to say something smart about every piece when you go to an art gallery, but I don't know any of that... artsy jargon, I guess." He pulls his gaze from the painting and meets theirs. "Uh. I like it, though. Is what I'm trying to say."

Stef laughs, too, reaching over to take his hand in theirs. His lips tug upwards. "Gabe, ya don't have to say anything _smart,"_ they say. "You can just look at it an' say it's pretty, ya know?"

He's grinning now. "It's pretty," he says. "And so are you."

There's a brief moment where the two of them just _look_ at each other, and Stef feels almost weightless, feels like it's just the two of them here together, but then Gabe's cheeks darken, and he clears his throat, and the spell is broken. 

Stef squeezes his hand. "Did you know Simon has a piece displayed here?" they ask, and Gabe blinks.

"Simon as in Madhavi's partner, Simon Moore? Whoa, no, I had no idea!"

"Yeah!" Stef looks around the room, but they can't see it anywhere. "He told me about it a couple weeks ago, but I haven't been here since they set it up. He showed me a couple pics, though, so I'll point it out when we find it, I guess."

"Okay. Do you wanna look for it, or just wander around for now?"

"Eh. Simon's piece can wait. Let's check out the other stuff first, huh?"

They spend about half an hour going from frame to frame, piece to piece, taking in all the different colors and comparing the different styles. At one point, Gabe makes an offhand comment about a particular painting looking like Shaw, which sets off a game of finding as many of their friends and family in the art as possible.

Stef's sure they haven't laughed this much in a _long_ time.

"Oh!" they exclaim as they move around a partian. _"Here's_ Simon's piece!"

Gabe follows them, bumping their shoulder with his own, and pauses. "Wow," he says after a moment. "This is not at _all_ what I was expecting."

Stef laughs, can't help but agree. Simon's a cheerful, friendly guy, and the found-object sculpture in front of them is anything _but._ Barbed wire and bricks, dried grasses and old fabric scraps all put together to make something _grotesque,_ painted in glossy neons that make the whole thing look _garish_ and _weird._

Stef loves it.

"Simon's so talented," Gabe groans. "I know I said this earlier, but artists are amazing."

"Abso-frickin'-lutely," Stef says, taking his hand to lead him to the next piece.

By the time they leave the gallery, the sun has well and truly set, and Stef's feeling much more relaxed, less nervous. This is a _first date,_ yes, but it's a date with someone they've known for a while, someone they know well enough that they don't have to worry about offending him or taking him somewhere he won't like.

They're having _fun._

"Where are we going next?" Gabe asks, swinging their hand a little between them.

"You'll see."

"Another surprise, huh? I like surprises."

"You'll definitely like this one."

\-----

"I can't believe you've never been here before!"

Gabe laughs, leaning back in his chair across from Stef. "I don't leave the diner much!" he weakly defends himself. "And when I do, it's not usually to go eat at _another_ restaurant. Unless it's for ice cream or doughnuts, but those don't count."

"Oh, shoot, is eating here, like, _cheating_ on your diner?" Stef's eyes are wide, and he'd almost think they were being serious if it weren't for the teasing tilt of their eyebrows and the slight upward quirk of their lips.

God they're pretty.

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing in the restaurant owner's handbook that says I'm not allowed to eat at other establishments," he assures them.

They laugh. "Good! Shoot, Gabe, you're gonna love this place. Shaw took me here, like, right after I first moved here! It was my favorite place 'til you showed up."

"Did you meet Shaw when you moved here?" Gabe asks, a little confused as he takes a sip of his water. "I kinda thought the two of you had grown up around here, or something."

"No, yeah, we've been friends since we were practically _babies,_ " they say, propping their chin in their hand and tilting their head so the lights overhead catch on their shiny lipgloss, making it sparkle. "We met in middle school. Grew up in a decent-sized town a few hours from here, went to college together in Sacramento--well, for a while, 'til ae dropped out--then came here. Shaw moved a couple months before I did, though, so ae got to explore the town an' show me all the cool spots."

"Wow," Gabe says. "You moved around a lot together. And... well, you and Marco are pretty close. You live together, right?"

"Yeah." Stef's smile softens at the mention of their brother. "He moved around with me an' Shaw. Shaw has aer own place now, but me an' Marco stick together!"

"Huh. Wait, he lived with you... during college? He's a year or two younger than you, right?"

Stef's face falls slightly, which is probably _not_ a good sign for a first date. The bubble of anxiety starts to form in the pit of Gabe's stomach again. "Yeah, he's two years younger than me. I, uh, left home as soon as I turned eighteen, and I took Marco with me."

The mood has changed drastically, from the sweet, semi-flirtatious conversation to this tension. Gabe's not quite sure if he should change the subject, or let the air clear on its own, or _what,_ but he knows this is his fault, and he wants to fix it, so he asks, careful to keep his town gentle and level, "Is it okay if I ask why? You don't have to answer; we can talk about something else if you want."

Stef smiles again, not quite as widely as before, but miles better than the sullen look they'd been wearing. The atmosphere lightens noticeably. "No, it's okay. I mean, hopefully talkin' about this won't ruin the mood of our date-- if it does, well, sorry, I guess." They laugh, not quite _happily,_ but not humorlessly, either. Gabe laughs, too, just a little, and reaches across the table to put his hand on Stef's. Their smile widens, actually reaching their eyes this time.

"You don't have to talk about it," he says. "But I wanna know about you, and your life." God, wait, is that too sappy for a _first date?_ Maybe! But they've been friends for a while before this, talking about themselves.... Surely this is an okay topic in this case?

Stef's cheeks pinken, just enough for him to notice, and he thinks, _oh._ His heart beats a little faster. "Right, yeah, that's... a really good point." They sound a little breathless as they speak, and their eyes are locked with his, and he thinks that maybe they're not going to continue their story, maybe the two of them will just sit here for a while, staring at each other and holding hands across the table and feeling their hearts beat in their chests, feel their heartbeats in their joined hands... but then their food arrives and their stomachs win out. They break apart, reluctantly, Gabe thinks, their gazes shifting to their food and hands moving to their forks.

"Anyway," Stef says, after they've both had a few bites and Gabe's announced that he does, indeed, love the food, "Me an' Marco. And Shaw. ...And my parents." They sigh, shake their head. "I don't really know where to start. Uh, my parents are... kinda lousy."

Gabe winces. He's pretty sure he knows where this is going now, but he doesn't interrupt them, just continues eating as he watches them.

Stef moves their food around on their plate as they talk, shifting their focus between their plate and the middle distance. "They're lousy in a few ways, I guess. The main one bein' that they're transphobic as _heck._ Hence, y'know, the _leavin'-home-at-eighteen_ thing."

"Right, I get that." He's lucky that his parents were never terribly concerned with his gender or sexuality; as long as he stayed out of trouble and got good grades, they didn't care about that sort of thing. He can't say the same for Damien's parents, of course, who didn't even allow him to start transitioning while he'd lived with them. 

"Yeah. Not a hard decision to make, y'know, when you've got a college lined up an' your best friend, who's _also_ nonbinary as heck, invites you to live with aer and aer frankly _amazing_ mom." Stef laughs a little, turning their gaze back to Gabe. "It's kinda weird, though, 'cause they're not _homophobic-_ \- they're actually totally fine with Marco bein' gay, _which they should be,_ an' they never had a problem when I'd date guys, it's just the whole--" they wave one hand through the air, "-- _trans_ thing they don't like."

"Sounds shitty," he says. "Wait, so, if their main problem was with your gender, why did you take Marco with you when he was sixteen? He'd have been okay there, right?" Or, wait, was Marco trans? Gabe had just assumed he was cis, but maybe he was a trans guy, or maybe he was _also_ nonbinary and used he/him pronouns?

"Well, I mean, he'd be okay because of _that,_ " Stef assures him, which, okay, so Marco's probably cis. That's fine. "But, uh, Marco had... _really_ bad depression. Uh, starting when he was about fifteen. It got so bad that next year that he could barely handle goin' to school, y'know? And, uh, well... my parents were really dismissive of it and ended up making him even worse." Their jaw clenches for just a moment before they relax again. "I couldn't just _leave_ him there to deal with that, so I got him outta there as soon as I could." They shrug, cramming way too big of a bite into their mouth and glancing away as they chew. 

"Whoa," Gabe says, unsure of how else to respond. "So you... took care of him while he finished school and you were in college? Got him the help he needed?"

Stef swallows, tapping the fingers of their free hand on the table. "Well," they say after a moment, "he kinda... refused to see a therapist or anything like that for a _long_ time. He was really lethargic and apathetic, those were his, like, main symptoms. On his good days he could do a little schoolwork, clean up a bit, work on his hobbies, but on his _bad_ days, it was all Shaw and I could do to keep him... well." They meet his eye again. "To keep him alive, basically."

Gabe sucks in a breath. What is he supposed to say to _that_ that won't seem disrespectful or dismissive of Marco? "That... that's a lot or responsibility for two teenagers," he says after a moment. "This was, uh, while you were going to college?"

"Yeah. And when I started working here, too. Marco, uh, didn't start to actually recover until, like, this summer." They bite their lip, and then, before Gabe can say anything else, they say, "And, I mean, it's not really _that_ different from _you_ raising a kid with your husband while _you_ went to college and all that jazz! Do _you_ have any siblings?"

Gabe recognizes that they're trying to change the subject and lighten the mood. "Nah, it's just me. Georgie has a pretty big family, but all the aunts and uncles are on her dad and step-dad's sides. Hey, can I ask you another question? I promise it's not as heavy as that last one was. ...Well, I don't think it is, anyway."

"Yeah, sure," Stef says, but they sound a little wary.

"Why do you always fake-swear?"

Stef stares at them for a long moment, perfect mouth hanging open just slightly, _clearly_ not having expected that question. Then they laugh again, a loud, sudden laugh that sounds almost like a _honk._ Gabe's heart stutter-steps in his chest. "Oh my _gosh,"_ they exclaim. "I'm a _fourth-grade teacher,_ and you want me to _swear?"_

"Is that the reason?" Gabe asks, arching his eyebrow teasingly at them. "I mean, you're only around the kids for a few hours a day."

Their cheeks flush pink again, and _fuck_ they're cute. "I don't wanna slip up and swear in front of the kids!" they say. "It's easier to just use the watered-down non-swears all the time than to watch my mouth in the classroom!" 

"Okay," he says. "I guess that's a pretty good reason."

"Do _you_ swear in front of Georgie?"

"Sometimes," he admits. "I try not to, though. When I do, I just ask her not to repeat it, because it's a grown-up word."

"A grown-up word," Stef repeats, almost mockingly, but they're still smiling. _"Ridiculous."_

"More or less ridiculous than using _fake swears_ all the time?"

They hum, gaze turning upward and their head tilting to one side as they tap their chin with their forefinger and pretend to think. It's _cute!_ "About equally as ridiculous, I think."

And now it's Gabe's turn to laugh. The two of them continue talking until they've both finished their meals, and a little after that, until Gabe starts to notice the waiter sending them pointed looks.

Gabe reaches for his wallet, but Stef beats him to it. "You're always givin' me free stuff at the diner," they say. "Let me buy you _something!"_

He relents, Stef pays, and the two of them head back out to Stef's car, hand-in-hand.

"I have one more place I wanna take you," Stef says. "Are you ready?"

"I don't know where we're going," Gabe says with a chuckle. "How can I answer that?"

Stef leans up to press their lips to his in a quick kiss, and the butterflies flutter in Gabe's stomach again. Fuck, he wants to kiss them so much _more_ than that. "You'll see," they say, opening the driver's side door. "We're only gonna break the law a _little._ "

"Wait, _what?"_

\-----

The elementary school looks so much different at night, Gabe notices as he follows Stef through the darkened halls with only their phones' flashlights to light the way. It's quiet and empty, sending little shivers up his spine. Gabe doesn't believe in ghosts, but that doesn't mean he's not spooked.

Stef's hand in his is a big source of comfort. Their hand is smaller than his, of course--almost everyone's is--and it fits snugly in his. Their hand is a little cold, but that's okay. His is always a little warm.

"The door's right up here," Stef says at full volume, which does _not_ help Gabe's nerves. Aren't you supposed to be _quiet_ when you're breaking into a building? "Sorry we had to go inside. Didn't expect the gate to be locked."

"It's fine," Gabe says, though he's still not quite sure what they're doing here. 

Stef leads him to the end of a hallway and pushes open the door, and the two of them find themselves back outside beneath the dark, starry sky, only now instead of standing hand-in-hand in an empty parking lot, they're standing hand-in-hand on an empty playground.

"Now what?" he whispers, because that still seems like the appropriate thing to do.

"C'mon, over here!" 

Stef tugs on his hand, and he goes willingly, following them across the stretch of pavement toward the tall, strangely-shaped shadows that Gabe's pretty sure are jungle gyms and play structures. 

They lead him to one shape in particular, and sure enough, it's a tall plastic play structure with several slides and platforms at different levels. They drop his hand in order to tug themself up onto one of the platforms, and then they scoot back, disappearing into the shadows. He hears a _tup tup tup_ as they pat the platform beside them. "Come on! Come sit!"

Gabe laughs under his breath, surprised and strangely delighted that _this_ was the final special place on Stef's list. He reaches up and presses his palms against the platform, hoisting himself up with ease and scooting over to sit beside Stef, their sides pressed up against each other.

"You're freaking _strong,_ huh?" Stef asks, sounding a little breathless, and Gabe laughs, lifting his arm to throw it over Stef's shoulder and pull them a little closer to him.

"I like to work out," he says. "The upper body strength is an added bonus."

Stef hums in reply, leaning their head against his shoulder. "Madhavi says you need to do more lower body workouts."

Gabe snorts. "My lower body strength is more than adequate!" he protests. "Madhavi doesn't know what she's talking about."

They giggle, lifting their head from his shoulder. He turns to look at them, at their moonlit shadow in the dark. There's a quiet moment between them, where they just _look_ at each other, and Gabe feels all warm and fuzzy despite the chill in the air. And then Stef's leaning toward him, and Gabe closes the distance between them, his lips meeting theirs as his arm slips from their shoulders to wrap around their waist.

Their Valentine's kisses had been soft and sweet, and the few kisses they'd stolen tonight had so far been in the same vein, but now that it's just the two of them, it doesn't take long before the kiss deepens, Stef sliding into Gabe's lap and wrapping their arms around his neck. 

Gabe almost feels like he's a teenager again, sneaking out at night to make out with people his parents probably wouldn't approve of, but this is _better_ than that, and _Stef_ is...

Well, they're pretty fucking _amazing,_ honestly.

He slides his hand up, under their shirt until he touches the skin of their back, and they gasp lightly, breaking the kiss.

Oh, shit, did he move too fast? He starts to pull his hand away, but Stef reaches back and grabs his wrist, holding his hand there against the small of their back. 

"Gabe," they say, and he can see their eyes glimmering in the dark as they search his face. "You know, you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life?"

_"Please_ don't call me that," Gabe says, before he can stop himself, and he can feel them tense. "No, uh--no, sorry-- I mean, thanks, you're-- you're pretty too, uh--"

"Don't call you what?" Stef asks, their voice sterner than usual. "Gabe. Did I say something wrong?"

"I--" Well, shit. This is probably not the best time to do this, but.... He shifts the hand not on Stef's back to their hip, holding them just tightly enough to tell them that he's not _mad_ at them. "Well, kinda. Uh. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me a 'man.'"

"Okay." They sound a little taken aback. "I won't, obviously, but-- wait, hang on, holy _heck,_ Gabe, are you tellin' me I've been _misgendering_ you this _entire time?!"_

"Uh." He gives them a sheepish look, though he's sure they can't see it in the dark. "Maybe? Possibly?"

"Gabe. What are your _freaking_ pronouns?!"

"Oh, no, they're he/him," he quickly assures them. "I'm just not a man. I'm nonbinary, too, just... I mean, I guess _demiboy_ is the closest label I've found that matches up, but I don't think that really fits me all that great so I don't use it too much, and I'm fine with most masculine terms, I just don't like 'man' or 'male' really, so uh, my gender doesn't really come up much, and it's kinda hard to explain, so, uh--"

_"Gabe,"_ Stef says again, and suddenly their hands are gone from the back of his neck and cupping his cheeks again, gently but firmly, as they look into his eyes. "You don't have to tell me _everything_ if you don't want to. I just-- I don't wanna call you somethin' you don't wanna be called! I wanna-- holy _heck,_ Gabe, you're _nonbinary!"_ They laugh then, a sharp, high-pitched sound that bounces against the plastic and metal play structures around them, and they lean in and kiss him again.

"Wish you'd told me sooner," they mumble against his lips, and then they pull away again, keeping their hands on his cheeks so he can't follow after them. "I mean, I _get_ why you didn't, 'cause gender's tough to talk about sometimes, but _I'm_ nonbinary, obviously, so it's not like I'd _judge_ you--"

"I mean, sometimes people do," Gabe says, feeling much more comfortable talking about this now. "I'm not-- I mean, I have _enough_ attachment to my assigned gender that, you know, some people think I don't really belong in trans communities, so--"

"Frickin' _dorks,"_ Stef says, managing to make the word sound as scathing as the word "asshole" or "bastard" would sound from almost anyone else. Gabe can't help but grin. "You're nonbinary! You're trans! Frick, me an' Shaw had to deal with that kinda thing in _high school_ and we're as nonbinary as you can _get."_ They kiss him again, just a quick peck on the lips. "You can talk to me about this stuff whenever you want, okay? Shoot, wait--should I not call you my boyfriend? Should I-- are you my datemate?"

He laughs a little, placing one of his hands over one of Stef's on his cheek. "I'm fine with either," he says. "I like the word boyfriend best, though."

"Okay," Stef says quietly, sucking in a breath. "Okay, good, great. Um. Dang. I frickin'-- _Gabe."_

"Yeah?"

"I just. You're amazing, you know?"

Gabe hasn't felt this _warm_ in so long. He pushes forward, kissing them again, and this time, neither of them pull away for a long time.

\-----

It's late by the time they get back to Stef's car, and Stef kinda _really_ doesn't want the night to end.

So, when Stef starts the engine and Gabe asks, "Do you wanna come over? Spend the night? I-- Lola said she could keep Georgie overnight, if you wanted...?" and it takes _way_ too much willpower to refuse.

"I can't," they say, hoping he can hear in their tone just how much they want to say _yes._ "Marco's waiting for me, and I can't leave him alone all night."

"Oh. Okay." Gabe's clearly disappointed, but he doesn't push them. Stef's glad for that, even though they _really_ wish they could answer differently. All night, and the last hour or so _especially,_ Stef hasn't been able to stop themself from thinking about Gabe, and his big, strong hands, and the way he holds their hips, the way he presses up against them--

"Next time," they say as they pull out onto the road, feeling more than a little breathless. "Next time we go out, definitely... definitely. I'll come over. Stay the night."

"Yeah?" They can hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah."

When they drop him off at his house a half hour later, thoroughly kissed, their thoughts stray back into thinking of the future, of those dates that have yet to be but _will_ be, and they let themself grin the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who could have POSSIBLY seen this coming?? Stef and Gabe getting together?? In FEBRUARY??? Wild. 😉😉😉  
> Also VERY happy to have been able to bring up gabe's nonbinaryness finally!! There have been subtle Hints laced throughout and i was really excited when costumejail commented on the last chapter mentioning some of the more heavy-handed hints!! 💖💖💖  
> Yes i DID add in that line about loving artists because both of my betas are visual artists. I think they're both amazing!! 😍  
> And finally, this fic has finally reached its halfway point!! 7 chapters posted out of 14... I hope you're ready to see what comes next!! 😘
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Feel free to leave kudos or a comment!! I'd love to hear your thoughts!! 😍  
> You can also message me on tumblr! [@enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks again!! Take care of yourselves!!!!


	8. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome welcome! i hope you're all doing well!! 💖
> 
> big thank you as always to my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this for me! 
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: implied/referenced sex, references to transphobia, brief description of a panic attack.

**Sunday, March 1.**

"I _still_ can't believe you let me _misgender you_ for _months_ and _months!"_ Shaw exclaims for probably the twelfth time this week as ae skates into the kitchen. It must be slow out there. Gabe glances at the clock on the wall; 11:06 AM. The lunchtime and after-church crowds will be showing up soon. He gets back to work, shooting a half-sheepish grin over to Shaw.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, only half-meaning it. 

"I mean, _really!"_ Shaw leans against the counter close to him, balancing aerself perfectly on aer skates. "One would think you could trust _me_ of all people, _me,_ who uses the goddamn _neopronouns,_ to respect your gender!"

He huffs a laugh, stepping away from the stove and wiping his hands on his apron. "I _told_ you, it's not that I didn't trust you, it's just that it felt awkward to correct you!"

"I agree with Shaw," Cole interjects from across the kitchen. "You should've at least told us not to refer to you with masculine words when you hired us. Trans solidarity and all that."

"Trans solidarity!" Shaw calls back to him. "Wait, shit, is this entire restaurant staffed by trans people?!"

Gabe pauses, thinking. That would be a hell of a coincidence, wouldn't it? Himari's nonbinary, of course, and uses they/them pronouns, but he's not sure about Taiki other than that he uses he/him pronouns, and Bunny--

"Ah, no, wait, Bunny's cis." Shaw sighs disappointedly. "Such a shame for a clever kid like her."

"She can't help being cis," Cole calls back. "Apparently it's pretty common to be cis, in fact."

"No _way._ " Shaw gasps dramatically, covering aer mouth in exaggerated shock, and Gabe laughs again, more genuine this time, pulling his apron off to hang it up before heading back to his office, leaving his employees to their gossip.

Gabe had told everyone in the diner that he was nonbinary a couple of days after his first and so far, _only_ (though they have plans for later this week), date with Stef. He hadn't realized how much the "man," "Boss-man," and other such terms had bothered him until they'd suddenly stopped. It's been a good week, and he really _is_ kicking himself for not mentioning his discomfort earlier.

He hasn't quite made it through the dining room to his office yet when he hears the bell over the door ring, and he glances over more out of habit than need. He stops in his tracks, though, when he recognizes Marco entering. 

"Hey, you!" Gabe says, turning on his heel to go talk to him. "Alone today?"

"Wanted to get out of the apartment for a bit," Marco says, slipping into his usual booth. "Thought I'd get some coffee and pancakes while I was at it."

Stef must be busy today, Gabe supposes. They've been texting even more, somehow, since their date, but they both live busy adult lives, so they don't get to see each other as much as they'd both like to at the moment. "Do you want a menu, then, or should I just send Shaw out with that?"

"Shaw's here?" Marco's expression barely changes, but Gabe can see his eyes light up. "Nah, no menu. Just pancakes and coffee. Thanks."

Gabe grins at him and heads back to the kitchen, leaning in through the window and rapping his knuckles on the wood rather than going fully back inside. "Marco's here," he tells Shaw when they look over at him. "Get him some coffee and pancakes when you have a moment, yeah?"

Well, Gabe decides as he turns back around, he's still got more than enough time to do paperwork. He can talk to Marco a little bit, if Marco doesn't mind.

Marco, in fact, does _not_ mind, seeming to know what Gabe wants without him even having to say anything; when Gabe approaches his table again, Marco gestures for him to sit down across from him.

Gabe doesn't see Marco too often without either Stef or Dante around, but the two of them seem to have forged a friendship either way. Marco's not a very talkative guy, preferring to let other people talk and just adding his own thoughts every so often. Gabe usually finds himself talking more than usual when it's just the two of them.

Today, though, Marco starts talking even before Gabe's ass has touched the seat. "So. I hear you and Stef had a nice date last week."

Gabe blinks, then grins again, feeling his face heat up a bit. "Uh, yeah, I think it went pretty well." He pauses. "Wait, is this the shovel talk? Are you about to tell me I better not hurt your sibling if I don't wanna end up in the ground?"

Marco snorts, his hand shifting up to tug at his earlobe for a moment before dropping back to the table. "No, Stef can take care of themself. I just wanted to say that if you ever need a babysitter for the night, I can watch Georgie."

Gabe blinks again, his face heating up even more. "Oh, uh, well. Thanks," he says, not quite sure if Marco's implying what he thinks he's implying. "I, uh, well. Her usual babysitters can take her for the night, so it shouldn't be, uh, a problem."

Marco shrugs. "Thought I'd offer," he says. "If they can't take 'er sometime, just let me know."

"Well. Thanks," Gabe says again, and luckily Shaw appears before it can get too awkward, coffee pot and mug in hand.

It's nice of him to offer. Gabe knows that Lola and Kai don't always have open schedules, and that things come up. It'll be nice to have a backup sitter for Georgie, now that Gabe's got dates to plan.

**Wednesday, March 4.**

"The old man leads you through the tunnels, the light fading around you with each step you take," Stef reads from their campaign notes, glancing up to see the kids' expressions. Arnie's the only one who doesn't look _enraptured,_ but he doesn't look bored, either, so they count it as a win. They continue, "Soon, the tunnel is completely dark, and you can't see anything at all. Do you continue following him? Or turn back?"

"Keep following him!" Georgie calls out immediately. "I'm not scared'a any _old man._ I'm a _mind flayer._ I can take 'im!"

"But what if _he's_ a mind flayer, too?" Sarah whispers. "Maybe he's taking us somewhere to _eat_ us!"

"He's not a mind flayer! He's not _cool_ enough to be a mind flayer."

"Well, _I_ think we should keep followin' him," Chess says. "How're we gonna find the next piece of the map if we don't go into the tunnels?"

The others all nod in agreement, so Stef continues on. "After a few minutes, you notice your surroundings beginning to lighten again. You can see the silhouettes of the other members of your party in the light coming from--"

"What's a silhouette?" Benson interrupts, jutting his chin forward and tugging his entire face into a pout. 

"It's, like, someone's shadow," Georgie says. "You can't see their face but you can see their blob."

Ava wrinkles her nose. "Their _blob?_ Ew!"

"What's ew about blobs?! Everyone's a blob in the dark!"

"People don't turn into blobs in the dark!"

"They _look_ like blobs in the dark! 'Cause you can't see their, like, their faces or their shirts or whatever unless it's light!"

Stef snorts a little. "Here," they say, pushing their glasses higher on the bridge of their nose and leaning over their notebook. They quickly draw a rough outline of a person and fill it in with a few scribbles of their pen. They then turn the paper so everyone can see it. "See how you can just see the _shape_ of the person, but you can't see what they look like? That's a silhouette. Sometimes a shadow can be a silhouette, too."

_"Oh,"_ Benson and Ava say in unison.

"A blob," Georgie says triumphantly, and Stef chuckles to themself before turning back to their notes.

"So. You can see the silhouettes of the other members of your party in the light coming from up ahead. _'It's not much farther now,'_ the old man says. _'But we have to be extra quiet so we don't wake the cactus beast. Don't talk again until I tell you it's safe'"_

"A _cactus beast?!_ " Arnie cries, and the other five quickly shush him. "A cactus beast?" he asks again in a whisper. "What's _that?"_

"You don't know," Stef tells him. "None of you know. You have three options: Do you want to ask him what the cactus beast is? Do you want to stay quiet and keep following him? Or do you want to turn around and go back?"

"I wanna know what the cactus beast is!" Benson says.

"But he said not to talk!" Sarah argues. "If we ask him what it is we'll be talking!"

"Aw, who cares?" Georgie says. _"I_ wanna know what it is, so I'm gonna ask him! If it wakes up, we can fight it!"

"No!" Chess shakes his head. "He said not to talk!"

"Do you want to vote on it?" Stef asks. They glance at the clock. "Lunch time's almost over, so this will be your last choice of the day."

"Yeah, let's vote!" Benson says. "I vote we ask him about the cactus thing!"

"I vote for that too!" Georgie says.

"I wanna know, too," says Ava. "'Cause this old man is _boring_ and I wanna _fight_ somethin'!"

"Well I think it's a bad idea," Chess says. "So I say no."

"Me, too. A cactus beast sounds _scary."_ Sarah shakes her head.

Everyone turns to look at Arnie. "You're the deciding vote," Stef tells him. "What do you think you should do?"

Arnie glances around the table, locking eyes with Chess, who shakes his head. Arnie looks at Stef again, nervous, and says, "I vote yes. I wanna know what it is too."

Chess and Sarah both groan as the other four cheer, and Stef shuffles their notes around to find that particular plot line. "You ask the old man about the cactus beast, and he turns around to shush you, but before any of you can respond, you hear a big _ROAR_ from up ahead!"

The kids gasp, and Stef grins, dropping their notes on the table and raising their arms up in the air to roar as loudly as they can. "The ground shakes under your feet, and you hear big, heavy footsteps running toward you!"

The lunch bell rings over the intercom just then, causing all the kids to jump, and then groan as they begin to gather up their things. 

"You'll have to wait 'til next week to find out about the cactus monster," Stef tells them, waving them off as they head off to return their trays to the lunch room. "Think about the different things that might happen when you see it, and try to figure out a way to deal with it!"

The kids wave back at them and then continue on their way, and Stef takes the time to gather up their own papers. The kids seem to be having a lot of fun with the game, which is the main goal of this whole club, and Stef's proud of themself for coming up with a story that eight-, nine-, and ten-year-olds find interesting. The kids contribute to a lot of it, too, and Stef’s found that they really enjoy this sort of collaborative storytelling with them. D&D is fun with adults, too, of course, but there's just something so _fun_ about playing it with kids.

They _love_ Wednesday club meetings.

**Thursday, March 5.**

Stef squeezes Marco's hand and leans over to press a kiss to his temple before he opens the door. "I'll meet you over at the coffee shop when you're done," they tell him.

Marco nods, offering them a tiny smile as he slips out of the car. "I know the drill," he says. "See ya in an hour."

"Bye baby bro!" They wave to him through the windshield as he heads into his therapist's office, and it's only once he's disappeared inside, the door swinging shut behind him, that they start up the Trans Am's engine again and drive it just across the street.

Since Marco started going to therapy last year, Stef's been the one to drive him to and from all his appointments, since he doesn't have a license, and they've been making it a habit to get coffee (or in Stef's case, tea) together after the fact each week. It's nice to just sit in a booth and relax with some iced tea for an hour or so during his appointment, too, since they've been working at the school all day.

Stef orders the first drink that catches their eye (a blackberry and pomegranate green tea they actually haven't tried yet), and once they receive it, they drop into a booth and pull out their phone. 

The past few weeks have been even _more_ fun, because they've been texting Gabe a whole heck of a lot.

> **TO: gabe babe:** hello gorgeowus howre you doing today?? 😘

They take a sip of their tea. It's _tasty._ They open up Instagram. Shaw's posted a video of aerself attempting to skate with two skateboards strapped to aer feet instead of skates. Ae doesn't appear to have been successful. They get a text from Gabe.

> **FROM: gabe babe:** Good! Busy today, so I had to bake some extra bread for the evening crowd :-) How was your day?
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** it was frickin excelleent the kdis were really idnto the lessson today!! and krose wasnt there soo i diddnt have to looks at his FACE 😈
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Aw so it was a good day for both of us! :-) I've never met Krose but I'm glad you didn't have to look at his face.
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Wait, is he the one who's always bragging about his husband's home-cooked meals and stuff? Korse?
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** YES and i HATE him!!!!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** I mean, I don't know him, so I can't agree or disagree. I can't blame him for wanting to show off a little!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** But if you really want to stick it to him, you should let me make you lunch sometime soon >:-)

Stef snorts, almost choking on their blackberry pomegranate green tea.

> **TO: gabe babe:** ii am DEFTNIETLY not sayin no to that!!! heck i will taske ANY oppoortnity to eat yourr food!! gettin korse back is just a BONUS!!! 😈
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** I'll make you something whenever you want! On the house! :-D I know you don't usually have time to stop by in the mornings, so just let me know when you want something and I'll send it to school with Georgie.
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Or you can send Marco. Or someone else. Whatever works for you! 
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** youre CUTE!!!! how did i GET so lucky??? 😩
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Look, I have limited time, skills, and energy. Let me offer my datemate what I can, okay? X-D

Stef can't help the warm delighted sensation that floods their chest. Gabe is the _sweetest_ thing, honestly. Maybe _too_ sweet! They move to type a reply, but before they can, another one comes in.

> **FROM: gabe babe:** Speaking of, are you still coming over tomorrow? ;-)

Stef swipes their thumb across the screen to check the date, even though they already know that today's Thursday, which means tomorrow's Friday, which means it's _finally_ time for their second (third?) date with Gabe. The warm feeling in their chest solidifies into a more intense feeling of _excitement._

> **TO: gabe babe** : abso-FRICKEN-lutely i am!!! i'm not about tot urn down a adate witht the hottest person ALIVE!!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Oh? I thought that was you, though? ;-*

Frick, Stef's gonna _die._

> **TO: gabe babe:** oh FRRICK YOU stop benign so CUTE.
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** ansalkdfjlsdkf anyway whatere our plans ffor the night?

It takes a few more minutes for Gabe to reply, and Stef finishes their drink in the meantime. They contemplate ordering another, but Marco should be done pretty soon, and it's tradition for them to order together. They hold off.

> **FROM: gabe babe:** Well, I thought maybe we'd watch a movie. Is there something you want to watch? I have Netflix!
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** ohhhhh netflix and chill huh??? 😉
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** I mean
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** You're not wrong ;-*

And of _course_ it's at _that moment,_ when Stef's thinking of just the _sexiest_ reply, that Marco appears next to them.

"Hey," he says, sounding tired. Not a surprise, really, since therapy sessions almost _always_ leave Marco feeling tired.

"Hey, Marco!" Stef quickly shoots off a text telling Gabe they've gotta go, then turns their attention back to their brother. "How'd it go?"

"Fine." He glances around the coffee shop, hands curling at his sides. Okay, so maybe _not_ "fine." 

"D'you wanna grab coffee to go?" they ask quietly. "Head home early?" 

Marco pauses, then shakes his head, hands relaxing. "No. It's fine." He turns on his heel and heads for the counter, and Stef scrambles to follow. 

It's not uncommon for Marco to be _tired_ after a therapy session, but he's usually not so... _curt._ This is weird. Stef wonders what they talked about today. Maybe Marco's old self-harm? But they're pretty sure he got all that more or less sorted out a few months ago, and he hasn't fallen back on any of his old habits; Stef would have noticed.

Unless... 

Did _Dante_ do something?

Stef clenches their jaw, does their best to appear civil as they order their second drink and head back to their seat with Marco. They _knew_ Dante was no good, knew something would happen, and they tried to _warn_ their brother, but he didn't _listen_ to them, and now who knows _what's_ happened between them! If Dante did something to Marco-- If Dante--

"You okay?" Marco asks, breaking them out of their thoughts. They glance up and see him watching them over the top of his giant coffee cup. He seems more closed-off than usual, which _can't_ be a good sign.

"I'm fine," they say, willing themself to relax. "It's just-- are _you_ okay?"

"I said I was," he says, sipping his coffee. "Just tired, is all."

Stef hums in reply, stirring the ice around in their cup. "Okay," they say. "If you're sure." They bite their lip, then ask, "How's Dante?"

Something flashes in Marco's eyes, and his hands tighten on his cup. "He's fine," he says, and Stef never thought they could dislike a word so much. "Why?"

They shrug. "Just wonderin'." Something's definitely up with Dante, then. Something Marco doesn't wanna talk about. This is _bad._

They reach across the table and put their hand over Marco's on his cup. He's still tense. "Marco," they say, making their voice calm and soothing. "You know you can talk to me, right? You can tell me anything."

He stares at them for a long second afterward, and then his eyes soften slightly, and he relaxes, turning his hand to squeeze Stef's. "I know," he says. "Things are good right now. I promise. _Really_ good."

They study him for a moment longer, and he _does_ seem to be sincere. Maybe they were just reading too much into things, then. Well, good. They smile at him, and squeeze his hand in return, and the rest of their afternoon goes much more smoothly.

**Friday, March 6.**

Gabe's just straightening the single throw pillow on his couch for probably the fifteenth time this evening when there's _finally_ a knock on his door. He drops the pillow and rushes across the room, flinging the door open to reveal Stef standing on his porch.

"Stef!" he says, a bit breathless and feeling more than a little crazed. "Hey, you're here, uh, come in!"

"Don't mind if I do," Stef says, leaning in to give him a solid kiss on the lips as they pass over the threshold and into his house. They're dressed in a pretty and seemingly comfortable style: an oversized sweater and a short skirt over leggings, with red flats on their feet. They're also carrying an overnight bag over their shoulder, the sight of which maybe gives Gabe a few more butterflies in his stomach.

He closes the door and then stands, awkwardly, beside Stef as they glance around the small living room. Gah, why is he so _nervous?_ He can't even use the excuse of it being their first date this time!

"Your house is so cozy!" Stef exclaims, taking a few steps to drop their bag on the couch and turning back toward him, a grin on their face. "Marco and I've lived in our apartment for four years and it's nowhere _near_ as homey as this place is! Is that a _home, sweet home_ cross-stitch on your wall?!"

"Oh, yeah." Gabe moves closer to them, following their gaze to the little framed cross-stitch piece. "My mom made that when we moved here. Cute, right?"

"Heck _yeah_ it's cute!" Stef exclaims, linking their arm through his and leaning some of their weight against him. "And you've got _photos!"_

As quickly as they'd grabbed onto him, they release him, moving closer to the wall to look at the pictures Gabe has hanging up. He laughs a little, following them.

"Here's Georgie a couple years ago at a friend's birthday party," he says, pointing to a framed picture of Georgie and a group of her friends from Oregon surrounding a Pikachu-shaped pinata. "Oh, and here's Georgie in the woods!" He points to another picture, this one of Georgie running down a path covered in orange leaves.

"I see there's a lot of pictures of Georgie," Stef says, laughter in their tone. "Not that I can blame ya for that! Oh, shit, is this your wedding?"

"Uh, yeah. That's me an' Damien, fresh out of high school and tying the knot." The picture in question is in the center of a multi-photo frame, surrounded by pictures of Georgie with different members of her family. The wedding photo is of himself and Damien standing facing each other at the altar, holding each other's hands and smiling at each other.

"Aw, you had a baby face!" Stef exclaims. They turn and scrutiny him for a moment. "If you shaved all your stubble off, would you _still_ have a baby face?" 

Gabe laughs, startled. That's definitely not what he'd expected Stef to say. "Well, I don't think so," he says, and rubs his hand over his chin. Stef's eyes follow the movement. "I just look like an average person, I think."

"Well, maybe you should let _me_ be the judge of that next time, huh?" They waggle their eyebrows at him, and he can't help but laugh _again_ and lean in for a kiss.

"I can shave right now, if you want," he says as he pulls back, and Stef _squeaks._

"Absolutely not!" they say, reaching out and grabbing the sides of his face. "I _love_ your stubble. I _demand_ that you keep it tonight." Their grin turns mischievous. " ...You can shave it in the morning, if you want. I'll judge it then."

A little jolt of excitement sparks through him again, and he bites his lip before answering, "Uh, yeah, sounds great."

Stef laughs, rubbing their hands over his cheeks once more before dropping their hands and turning back to the wall of photos. "You never really talk about your parents," they say. "But it looks like you guys get along pretty well."

Gabe moves to stand beside them, tentatively putting an arm over their shoulders. They lean against him, that little thrill shooting through him again. "Yeah, they're pretty good," he says, gaze shifting to a photo of him and his parents taken at the dinner table, an excited seven-year-old Georgie climbing into his dad's lap to plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiles. "They were great when I was growing up, and they're great with Georgie. We don't talk a lot these days, though."

He sees Stef look at him out of the corner of his eye and turns toward them. "Any particular reason why?" they ask, sounding hesitant. Which makes sense; if their own parents are shitty, they're probably worried that _his_ are, too.

He shrugs. "We just don't have a lot in common, I think. They're good parents. Good grandparents. I just don't really need _parenting_ anymore, you know? And we just... I don't know. Grew apart?"

"I guess that makes sense," Stef says. _"Ugh._ My parents are--were?-- _so_ controlling. It was _such_ a relief to get away from them, you know?" They pause, chewing lightly on their lower lip. "...But I couldn't really cut ties with them, even though they were so _awful_ to Marco. I just... I dunno. I kept thinkin' they'd _see the error of their ways_ or somethin', apologize to both of us and be... good people, or somethin'." They sigh. "I don't know. It's stupid. _Was_ stupid."

"It's not stupid," Gabe says, squeezing Stef's shoulder with the hand he has draped around them. "Obviously, I don't have any first-hand knowledge of that sort of thing, but I can see why it would be hard to let go, to give up on them. If I didn't have my parents, if they weren't good people, who knows _how_ my life would've turned out?" He shakes his head. "Damien's parents kicked him out when they found out he was pregnant. They were shitty before that, too--didn't let him transition even though he'd been out as trans since _middle school._ Deadnamed him all the time. It's--" He's getting _really_ worked up about this, he realizes, and unclenches his jaw. "Sorry. I just... What's the point of being a parent if you're not gonna help your kids, support them through all those hardships? I just _don't_ understand it."

"No, yeah, I _get it,_ " Stef says, reaching up to intertwine their fingers with his. "If my parents had actually been _supportive,_ Marco and I would've avoided... well, a _lot_ of crap. And, heck, I'm a _teacher!_ I see kids all the time with parents as bad as mine, or close to it. And all I can do is try and give 'em what support I can at the school, you know? Some people just... shouldn't be parents."

They both fall silent for a few long moments, shoulder-to-shoulder with their hands linked. It's quiet, contemplative.

Stef's the one who breaks the silence, squeezing Gabe's hand before releasing it and taking a step away. "Anyway, sorry to bring the mood down," they say. "I don't think talking about my crappy parents is gonna help me seduce you."

This startles yet another laugh from Gabe _"Seduce_ me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow and grinning. 

"Seduce you! That's why I'm here, after all!" They slide right back up against him, pressing their chest to his, their hands going to his hips. "Gotta use all my charm to convince ya to fall in bed with me."

"I thought--" he's biting back laughter, giggles rising up as he tries to speak, "--I thought we were gonna, gonna watch a _movie!"_

Stef looks at him incredulously, humor glimmering in their eyes. "Oh, _I'm_ sorry. Do you wanna explain to me the reason I'd need to bring _condoms_ and _dental dams_ for a goshdang _movie night?!"_

"What--" It's even more difficult to speak now, too difficult to hold the laughter in. "--What gave you the, the _idea_ that you would need to bring _condoms_ and _dental dams_ to our _movie night?"_

"Why, _Mr. Martín,"_ they say, clearly enjoying themself, "you and I had a conversation via _text_ just _last night_ about what this date would entail and what I should bring! Do you mean to tell me you were just _foolin'_ me? Pullin' my goshdang _leg?_ I thought better of you than that! Had such high hopes that you weren't such a jokester!"

Gabe's laughing too much to speak, his own arms wrapped loosely around Stef's waist as he lays his forehead against their shoulder and shakes with laughter. God, he loves people who can make him laugh like this, with things that aren't even _funny_ outside of context.

Stef holds him until he calms down, laughing along with him, and when he straightens up, he gives them a long, happy kiss, which they eagerly return.

"Seriously, though," he says. "I have a fresh chocolate cake, popcorn ready to be popped, and the movie all queued up. You don't mind waiting ninety minutes before we move on to the next stage of the date, do you?"

"Absolutely not," they reply, taking a step backwards towards the couch and tugging him along with them. "We are gonna eat some absolutely _delectable_ snacks, cuddle up a _whole_ bunch, and _then_ we can get busy!"

Gabe kisses them again.

**Saturday, March 7.**

Stef is awakened from a heavy, sated sleep after _far_ too little rest by Gabe's _wonderful_ but oh so _terrible_ hand gently shaking their shoulder.

"Mmph," they say, which probably isn't a word but still gets their point across well enough.

"Sorry to wake you," Gabe whispers, and Stef opens their eyes to find the room still completely dark, which isn't unlike the last two times they'd awakened, but is much _worse_ because the last time was supposed to have been the _last time_ for the night, and Stef just doesn't have the same kind of _energy_ they had when they were in college, okay?! But before they can voice any of those concerns, Gabe continues, "I just found out Cole can't make it in this morning, so I've got to go get the diner set up."

"Time's it?" they murmur, waving their hand around in a blind attempt to find their phone and instead finding the side of Gabe's wonderfully sandpapery face. "S'rry."

"Five," Gabe says apologetically. "Sorry, I know we only got to sleep a few hours ago. I just wanted to let you know I was leaving."

"Oh." Stef blinks, their eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. They can see Gabe's silhouette now, hovering over them from beside the bed. 

"You can sleep as long as you want," he continues. "Take a shower, eat something. There's easy boxed stuff in the kitchen, help yourself. Or come into the diner when you get hungry. And--oh, shit, you're probably not awake enough to understand what I'm saying. I'll leave you a note on the nightstand, okay?"

"Okay," they repeat, too tired to keep their eyes open much longer. "See ya later."

They hear him chuckle, feel his lips against their cheek as they drift off back to sleep.

**Tuesday, March 10.**

"Whaddaya think, Gabe?" Lola asks from atop the stool she's standing on, dropping her hands away from the shiny green garland hanging from the ceiling.

Gabe eyes it, then steps to the side to view it from a slightly different angle. He squints, purses his lips. Nods. "Looks great, Lola!" he says, giving her a thumbs-up.

She beams at him and steps down from the stool, standing there for a minute with her hands on her hips as she admires her handiwork.

There's just a week until St. Patrick's Day, and Lola had _insisted_ he let her decorate the diner for it. After the success of her Valentine's decorations, he'd been loath to say no. Now, green and gold garland hangs in soft, perfectly-spaced loops across the ceiling and along the front of the counter. Matching centerpieces featuring leprechauns and four-leaf clovers sit atop each table, as well. It's a lot gaudier than he'd make it, but that's beside the point. It's pretty, and people will like it.

"Hey, shit, did a leprechaun throw up in here?" 

Gabe grins as Dante walks into the diner. "Hey!" he says brightly. "Nah, we just decorated. Looks nice, huh?"

Dante's eyes light up when he hears Lola's name, and he zeroes in on her immediately. "Lola! Shit, didn't know you'd be here!"

"Hi Dante!" Lola reaches out and pulls him into a side hug, which makes their height difference all the more noticeable. Dante can't be much taller than five foot, and Lola's at least six feet tall. It's kind of funny, honestly.

"Are you two friends?" Gabe asks, which is sort of stupid because _obviously_ they're friends. They wouldn't be hugging in the middle of his diner if they weren't _friends._

"Yeah! Since high school," Lola says, releasing him. "I didn't know _you_ two were friends, though!"

"He came into the shop a couple months ago an' forced me to do some work on his car an' then left without paying," Dante says, the _asshole._ "So I tracked him down an' made him gimme a free lunch in retaliation."

Lola gasps, eyes wide. _"Really?"_ she asks. "Gabe! I never would have thought that you would try to take advantage of someone like that!"

"I _didn't,"_ Gabe says, shooting an exasperated look at Dante, who's shooting _him_ a shit-eating grin. "Dante was _kind_ enough to look at the engine for free, and I _offered_ him a free meal as _thanks._ "

"Oh." Lola nods. _"That_ sounds more like the Gabe I know!" 

Dante cackles, and Gabe sighs, though he's not actually upset. He shakes his head, flashing a smile at both of them, then turns his attention to Dante. "Are you waiting on Marco? Or are you eating alone today?"

Lola brightens. "Ooh, is Marco coming? You don't mind if I third-wheel, yeah? I could call Kai and we could do a double date!"

Dante snorts, bumping Lola's arm with his shoulder. "Nah, it's just me today," he says. "Sorry." He pulls away from Lola and hops up on one of the stools at the counter, tapping his finger tips against the wood a few times once he's settled. His three prosthetic fingers make a much sharper sound than the other two. "He's workin' on some big coding project today. Guess he's almost done with it so he wants to focus on it for a couple days. It's my day off, so I thought I'd come in for an early lunch before I get back to my own project, pick 'im up somethin' while I'm here. Menu?"

"Oh, right." Gabe reaches under the counter and pulls one of the menus out, sliding it over to him. This is the first time Dante's come in alone, interestingly. He and Marco have come in a few times together in the last month or so, usually for lunch or dinner. Marco comes in alone fairly often.... It must have to do with the fact that Dante has a regular, steady job at the garage, while Marco's a freelancer.

"Well, I'm not gonna let you eat lunch all _alone!"_ Lola says, settling herself on the stool beside his. "I'm done decorating, anyway. Isn't it _pretty_ in here?"

"Ah, shoulda known this was _your_ work," Dante says, flipping the menu open. "Needs more glitter."

"No it _doesn't,"_ Gabe says, as firmly as he can, and Lola pouts at them both.

"He won't let me," she says. "He says the glitter would get in people's food or stick to their clothes. Which is, like, the _point_ of glitter!"

"To get in your food?!" Gabe asks.

Lola frowns at him. _"No._ To stick to your clothes or your hair or your skin!" She sighs. "Neither of you know what's _good._ Kai lets me put glitter all _over_ the place and _he_ doesn't complain!"

"Kai doesn't know what's goin' on right in front'a his face ninety percent'a the time," Dante says fondly. "I want a burger," he says to Gabe, shutting the menu and sliding it back to him. "That one you made Marco last time we were here. Ya know? With the grilled onions an' the sauce?"

"Sure," Gabe says, scribbling his order down. "Hope you don't mind if I don't make it, though. I've been kicked off of kitchen duty for the day."

"Ain't this _your_ restaurant?" Dante asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Gabe says. "But apparently I 'work too much' and 'need to let my hair down more.'" 

Dante laughs. "Shaw?" he asks.

"Shaw," Gabe confirms. He takes Lola's order as well, then turns away and pins the order to the carousel in the window. "Order up!" he calls, and though he receives no response, he knows Taiki will collect the order in a moment and start work on it. 

"So how's it goin' over at your place?" Dante asks Lola. "How's Sam doin'?"

Lola sighs. "I don't really know. They don't talk to me a lot, just kinda glare or shrug at me. Same with Kai."

"Yeah. They prob'ly just don't trust you yet," Dante replies, and Gabe turns back toward the counter, grabbing a rag to wipe it down. He doesn't want to interrupt their conversation. "I mean, they've only been with ya for a few months, and you don't really know what-all they went through before, yeah?"

"Yeah..." 

"Well, shit, I barely talked to my aunt for like a year after I moved in with her. An' things were _way_ better, like, right off the bat with her, ya know?" 

Gabe suddenly feels like maybe he's not supposed to hear what's clearly a _personal_ conversation. He looks around for another table to clean, but unfortunately, Bunny had done them all earlier, and it's a fairly slow day. He takes his cleaning stuff to a different table, anyway, so at least he doesn't have to _look_ like he's eavesdropping.

"Well, _yeah,_ but you were still friendly with the other kids at school!" Lola sighs. "Sam doesn't even have _friends._ I mean, I don't think they do. Maybe they do. I don't _know,_ they don't _talk_ to me!"

"Do you want me to try an' talk to 'em again?" Dante asks. "Maybe they'll let me give 'em advice this time instead'a yellin' at me."

"I don't know... _Maybe._ But I don't think they like talking to _anyone._ "

"I don't know, either," Dante says. "I'm for damn sure not a parent."

And, well, now Gabe can't _not_ say anything. "I'm a parent," he says, and both of them turn in their seat to look at him. His face heats up, and he clears his throat. "I mean, uh, maybe I can help?"

Lola brightens. "Yeah, maybe! Georgie's the _sweetest_ kid, and _so_ talkative. How do you _do_ it, Gabe?!"

"Uh." Gabe shrugs, moving back over to the counter. "Georgie's just a talkative and sweet kid. I don't think that's me." He thinks for a moment. "Maybe it's from her dad? I don't know. But, uh, I could try to talk to Sam, if you want. Maybe they just need someone with experience in parenting?"

Lola sighs and shakes her head. "Thanks, Gabe," she says, "but I don't think that'll help."

"Ya just gotta wait it out," Dante says again. "Wait for 'em to trust you." He looks at Gabe. "Georgie's a good kid. But Sam's had family troubles, an' if you don't have experience with that kinda thing, it'd prob'ly do more harm than good." He shrugs. "Anyway. You're trans?"

Gabe blinks. "Uh," he says again. "Yes? Er, nonbinary." It's still so weird to say it, to say it as often as he does. It's not like he's been _in the closet_ this whole time--well, okay, maybe he was--but also, the only people who'd really known the extent of his gender _stuff_ were Damien and Jason, and a couple of other friends from Oregon. He's never been _out_ to so _many_ people before. It's kind of nice.

Dante grins, tapping his metal fingers on the counter again. "Sweet! Welcome to the club, dude!" He holds his hand up, and Gabe, confused, slowly gives him a high-five.

"That was the lamest high-five ever," Dante says, "but I'll let it slide. Oh, shit, food!"

Gabe has to jump out of the way as Taiki comes out of the kitchen, carrying two plates. He sets them down heavier than is polite--or really _safe-_ -and immediately turns and ducks back into the kitchen. Gabe's not sure why he didn't just put them in the window for Gabe or one of the members of waitstaff--both of whom, Bunny and Himari, seem to have disappeared when things got slow--but he doesn't say anything. 

Dante and Lola set about eating their lunch, conversation turning from Sam to Dante's podcast, and Gabe goes back to... well, not to _work,_ exactly, but to keeping himself busy.

**Saturday, March 14.**

Georgie runs ahead of them and off the path right away, heading for the play structure where Stef can see some other kids from their class playing. Gabe doesn't say anything, just waves in her direction as he continues their conversation.

"I have _never_ seen a _single_ piece of Star Wars media, and I don't know why you think I'd _lie_ about that," he says.

"But you're a _nerd!"_ Stef says, exasperated. "Star Wars is, like, _nerd culture!_ I have _never_ met a nerd who hasn't watched Star Wars at _least_ once!"

"I may be a nerd," he says, slipping his arm through Stef's as they walk, "but I'm also a nerd with _taste._ Just 'cause Star Wars is popular doesn't mean it's _good."_

"Name _one_ sci-fi series better than Star Wars!"

"Star Trek," Gabe says immediately, "particularly the original series."

Stef huffs. "No, okay, we're _not_ getting into a Trek versus Wars debate. That is a _date ruiner."_

"You're just saying that because you know I'm right."

"No, okay, _listen,_ they both have their merits!"

"I have _never_ seen a single Star Wars movie," Gabe repeats, and Stef can hear him grinning, "and I never will."

"Not even the prequels?"

"Not a single thing."

"What about the Clone Wars TV series?"  
Gabe doesn't reply for a moment, and Stef looks up to see him biting his lip, gazing into the distance. _Ah ha!_ They've got him.

"It's _really_ good," they tease, angling themself to lean into his line of sight. Gabe's gaze snaps to theirs. "It's cute. And less Hollywood-y, if that's your problem."

Gabe's quiet a moment longer, and then he sighs. _Yes!_ _"Maybe,_ " he says, "but only if you or Georgie watch it with me."

"Oh, I will _gladly_ watch it with you! It's frickin' _cute,_ Gabey, you'll love it." And then, before they can stop themself, they're off on a rant about all their favorite shows. They haven't really watched anything with anyone but Marco and _maybe_ Shaw since, like, high school, and the idea of watching some of their old favorites with Gabe, who's new to a lot of it, is _so exciting!_ They can just perfectly picture _so many_ wonderful dates in their future, watching Clone Wars or The Munsters curled up on the sofa with Gabe... and then after a few episodes, the two of them will head back to the bedroom for a couple of hours. Heck _yes._ This is going to be the greatest relationship of their _life._

They're in the middle of disagreeing with Gabe on what the best Twilight Zone episode is when they spot _him._

What the frick is _Dante_ doing here?! Shouldn't he be, like, _working_ or whatever the heck he does all day when he's not tormenting their brother?

Oh, no, of _course_ he's here with Marco. Does Dante _ever_ go anywhere without dragging their brother along? What are they _doing_ here? Playing on the swings? Swings are for _kids,_ Marco's too _tall_ to use the swingset, shouldn't _Dante_ be the one sitting there? 

Well, Marco _does_ look like he's having fun... A _lot_ of fun. Stef rarely gets to see him doing something _goofy_ just for fun.... Marco's smiling. They can hear him _laughing._

But, no, _no,_ Marco shouldn't be here with _Dante,_ he shouldn't be _anywhere_ with Dante! Dante's bad news, clearly taking advantage of Marco, and Marco doesn't _know_ any better, not after all that he's been through--

"Stef?"

Gabe's voice beside them, sharp. Cutting through the jumble of thoughts in their head. They shake themself, meeting his eye again; he looks concerned. _Heck._ This isn't what they wanted! This is supposed to be a _date,_ a nice walk in the park with Gabe and Georgie, but Georgie's off playing somewhere and Gabe's looking at them like _that_ and this is _not_ how it was supposed to go!

"There's a bench over there," they can hear him saying, and now they're being led off the path. "Let's sit down for a minute. Do you need some water? Or a snack? I, uh, I didn't pack any food, but I can probably run over to the gas station and grab some peanuts or something, if you need it."

They can't help it; they laugh, louder and higher than they mean to (they hadn't meant to laugh at _all),_ sitting on the bench and tugging Gabe's arm so that he sits beside them. "I'm fine," they say, smiling at him; he doesn't seem convinced, though.

"Are you sure?" he asks, and they know that they aren't.

They sigh, shake their head, lean forward to put their face in their hands. Their head is clearing now, and they feel like they can breathe again. "Sorry," they say. 

"Hey, it's okay." They feel Gabe lean close, feel his arm slip around their shoulders. They lean closer to him. _"Do_ you need something? Or just need to sit for a minute? I-- sorry, it looked like you were starting to panic. Should I-- should we go?"

"No, no, it's fine, it's--" They lift their head, glancing around the park, but Gabe's moved them to a spot where they can't see Dante and Marco anymore. Can't see the playground at all. "I don't know why I did that. Sorry." They sigh again. "That wasn't very fun and sexy of me."

That seems to startle a laugh out of Gabe. "You-- _what?_ Stef, you don't _have_ to be _'fun and sexy'_ all the _time._ If you weren't feeling well, you didn't have to come. We could have postponed this, done it another time." He shifts against them, brushing hair away from their face with his thumb, and they look up to see him smiling at them, a little nervously, they think.

"No, no, it's--I was fine until just now." They bite their lip. Gabe looks so _earnest_ right now, just trying to help them, and they _want_ to tell him what's wrong. They _do._ (And there's been so few people in their lives that they've wanted to talk to in such depth, it's _ridiculous._ ) "I... I didn't know Marco and- and _Dante_ would be here, so...."

"Oh." Gabe's eyes widen slightly, and he glances toward the playground, but of course it's out of sight right now. "I... didn't realize that that was something we had to be mindful of." He looks back at them, his head tilted to the side just slightly. His hand is still on their cheek, warm and comforting and _solid._ "We can go somewhere else," he says. "If you want. I can get Georgie and we can go to-- I don't know, a cafe or something."

Stef's heart surges in their chest, overflowing with warmth and affection for a moment, and they shake their head. "No, no, it's fine. I wanna stay. Just... can we sit here for a few more minutes? Before we go back to the path?"

"Of course." Gabe drops his hand then, though he keeps his arm around their shoulders, and they sit there for a few minutes. It's quiet, and calm, and Stef thinks that they'd like to just sit here for the rest of the day, maybe, just soaking in the warm, comfortable feeling of Gabe beside them.

But, no. They can't properly enjoy the day just _sitting_ here. It's so nice out, and there's just something so _perfect_ about walking through a park together, swinging their hands between them as they walk. So, when they feel better, they nudge Gabe, and the two of them resume their trek.

Dante and Marco are nowhere to be seen when the playground comes back into view, and Stef's insides grind unpleasantly. Maybe Marco went home without Dante, and he'll be curled up on the sofa when Stef gets back later. Or maybe they went off together somewhere, and it's only a matter of time before Stef has to pick up the pieces of Marco's heart again, only a matter of time before--

"Can I ask," Gabe says, breaking Stef out of their reverie yet again, "why you don't like Dante? I mean--I just, he seems like a good guy to me. So..."

And even though they'd just been thinking about how they feel like they can tell him _anything,_ now it's... it's so _hard._ It feels impossible. So instead of going into detail, they tell him, "I just don't... _trust_ him. And I don't... I don't trust that Marco's making the right decision."

"Okay." Gabe's quiet for a moment. "I think... and, sorry if I'm overstepping here, but I'm trying to help. I want you to be happy. I think that _if_ Marco's making the wrong decision, you should let him. Just be there for him if it goes wrong."

"I _am_ doing that," Stef says, more harshly than they mean to. "And I've done that for him _so_ many times, Gabe. I just-- I don't want him to get _hurt._ "

"I know," he says, and squeezes their hand. "I _know."_

They fall silent again after that, but it's only a minute or so later that Gabe starts up another conversation, this time about music genres.

Stef lets the bad topics fade away behind them and enjoys the rest of their day.

**Tuesday, March 17.**

With Lola and Kai both suddenly unable to make the trip to Georgie's school this afternoon, the duty once again falls to Gabe. This time, he remembers the time correctly, and with a full staff on duty, he has more than enough time to put his paperwork away and head out the door.

He considers, briefly, changing his clothes before hopping in the car... but, what the hell. It's St. Patrick's day, and he's feeling festive. Besides, chances are that he won't even have to get out of his car, and if he _does,_ well, who's gonna judge him? Grade-school kids? Their parents? A few teachers who might glance out the window and see him? He's already figured out from many conversations with Stef that most of the staff is pretty weird themselves (except Korse, apparently. Fuck that guy, he guesses), so he has nothing to lose.

So Gabe strolls through the dining room of the little Jet Star's Diner, earning several stares, grins, and even a single _whoop_ (from Shaw, who also throws him a wink and a kiss as ae skates across the floor). He's feeling pretty good about himself, actually, which is nice.

The drive to Georgie's school doesn't take long, and then he just has to wait in line behind the other parents' cars as the clock ticks down the minutes to the end of school. He reaches up to adjust the top hat on his head as he watches the doors.

They open suddenly, and a stream of kids flows out. Some of them head directly to the sidewalk, some to the buses parked nearby, and the rest head toward the car pick-up lane. Nearly all of the kids are wearing green in various shades and amounts, but it's still easy enough to spot Georgie amongst the crowd.

Her gorgeous puff of hair isn't on full display like it usually is, most of it instead tucked beneath a green polar fleece hood with little ears stuck out to the sides. Her face is painted green, though even from this distance he can tell that a good bit of it's been smeared off of her skin. Instead of her usual T-shirt and jeans ensemble, she's wearing _horrible_ green and brown plaid pants and an off-white tunic on top, with a brown polar fleece belt wrapped around her middle. 

Yes, his kid had _demanded_ to dress up as Shrek for St. Patrick's day. And he and Damien had both helped her put the costume together, Gabe taking her around to the few thrift stores in town and Damien actually _sewing_ the damn hood and belt himself. Gabe can't help but laugh a little to himself as he waits to pull up to the sidewalk. He may not be a fan of her taste in fashion, but he can't deny that she got her flair for the dramatic from both of her parents.

Just as he pulls up to the curb and Georgie opens the door to climb into the back seat, the school doors open again, and who should run out but Gabe's favorite schoolteacher, Stef Campbell themself. 

"Georgie, wait, you left your lunchbox in the--oh my _gosh."_

Gabe leans down so he can properly see Stef and sticks his tongue out at them. "Hey there, pal," he says, because calling them _"hot stuff"_ within hearing range of several kids and their parents (and Georgie!) probably isn't a great idea. "Have a good day?"

Stef (who looks _very_ good in their pale green button-up with their firetruck-red hair pulled into a little ponytail at the nape of their neck) blinks at him, their mouth falling slightly slack. "Oh my _gosh,"_ they say again, "Are you dressed as an _entire_ leprechaun?!"  
He laughs. "Well, it's be pretty bad if I was only dressed as half of one," he says. 

"I _never_ thought I'd see you in so much _glitter!"_ Stef exclaims, eyes wide. "Shoot, I can't be having this conversation with you here! I--uh, text me later, okay?!"

"Sure thing," he says with a wink, and he catches their cheeks reddening as they turn away.

Once Georgie's buckled up, Gabe pulls back out onto the street, and it's only when they're almost home that Georgie exclaims, "Stef never handed me my lunchbox!"

Gabe laughs again.

**Friday, March 20.**

Stef can tell something's off before they even reach Gabe's front porch. They don't know what it is, exactly, but the atmosphere just feels _off,_ somehow. That can't bode well for their date, can it? Which is _terrible_ , because the two of them can really only manage one actual _date_ a week (if that), let alone a _nighttime_ date. If this date's a bust, they're gonna be stuck with just sexting until _next_ week, or whenever they can fit another date like this into their schedules!

Well, they won't know until they know, they suppose. Stef steps up to the front door and raps their knuckles against it three times.

The Gabe who opens the door a few seconds later is frazzled and nervous, his T-shirt half-tucked into his jeans, both of which look like he's been wearing them in the diner all day. "Stef!" he says, too loudly. "Oh, shit, uh, sorry, I--come in, um!" He steps aside, holding the door open for them.

"Are you okay?" they ask as they step inside. "You don't look so great, babe."

"Sorry, sorry, I just--"

"Stef!"

Stef turns their head at the voice, just as Georgie slams into their stomach, her arms wrapping around their waist. "Oh--Georgie! Hi!" They tentatively pat her on the head.

"Sorry, I-- Lola and Kai cancelled last minute, and Madhavi's out of town, and I couldn't think of anyone else to call, so--"

"So this little lady will be joining us on our date tonight?" Stef asks, grinning down at Georgie, who beams right back up at them. 

"Yes," Gabe says, pushing his curls back and away from his face. "I-- is that okay? We can cancel, tonight, if you--"

"No, I would _love_ to hang out with the both of you tonight!" Stef says, ruffling Georgie's hair more intentionally now. Her smile widens, and then she releases them and bounces off down the hallway. They turn to Gabe. "Seriously, Gabe, it's _fine._ I like Georgie! I wanna spend time with you! And your kid is part of your life. Things don't go according to plan all the time, especially when you've got someone to look out for." They lean in and plant a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "Go change into something more comfortable, okay? We can all watch a movie or somethin'."

Gabe's smile, equal parts eager and grateful, makes Stef's own smile falter, if only for a moment. Surely he didn't think Stef would be _upset_ about this change of plans, did he? Well, of course Stef's not completely _happy_ about it; they'd been planning on something like their second date, with movies and cuddling and talking and then a little sexy fun until eleven or so when Stef has to leave, and that _obviously_ can't happen. But they're not gonna hold that against Gabe! Things happen, Georgie's a _kid_ and a major part of Gabe's life.

He heads into the hallway just as Georgie comes out, clutching a big stack of loose leaf papers in her hands. "Stef!" she says. "I drew everybody from our D an' D game! Look, check it out!"

They laugh as they look through her stack of papers. They know that she's an artist, of course, and that she's _good,_ especially for a nine-year-old, so the drawings aren't really a surprise. They're adorable!

"That's Charles," Georgie says, pointing to a little colored-pencil drawing of a gnome complete with white beard and red pointy hat. "Ava says he doesn't have a hat but I think he'd look better with one. Maybe Cuttlefish gave it to him." Stef will always love the wide range of names that people--especially kids!--give their characters. There's Ava's gnome, Charles; Benson's "big, buff human man," Bryan; and Arnie's dwarf, Angus, on one end. And on the other, there's Georgie's mind flayer, Cuttlefish; Sarah's fairy princess, Princess Melty; and finally, Chess's elf, Legless. It's a good mix.

"I love it," Stef tells her honestly. "If you want to draw something for Ava, though, it would probably be nice if you didn't give him the hat."

"I know," she says with a deep sigh. "I have a card I made her! 'Cause her birthday's on Monday! So it's a card with Charles and Cuttlefish on it. Oh-- here it is!" She extracts a folded piece of orange construction paper from the pile and hands it to them.

 _"Happy Birthday!"_ the front of the card reads in blue marker. They open it up to reveal a drawing of Cuttlefish holding a much smaller Charles in her arms. It's _cute!_

"Aw," they say, "Georgie! Ava will _love_ this!" they hand it back to her, and she beams at them yet again. _Gosh_ they love kids.

"Sorry I took so long," Gabe says as he reenters the room, and Stef looks up to see him in what looks to be a _much_ more comfortable outfit-- purple plaid pajama pants and a plain green sweatshirt. 

"You look cozy," Stef says. Aw, dang it, he looks _so_ goshdarn _cuddly_ right now! And Stef doesn't think Gabe would be down for cuddling on the sofa if Georgie's here. They don't even know if _they_ would be okay with that; they're not sure if they and Gabe have been _together_ long enough for it to be okay for them to cuddle up to Georgie's _dad_ on the couch. When _is_ it appropriate to do that?! Ugh, Stef _loves_ kids, but they've never dated a parent before. There's so much to _think_ about!

"I am," Gabe says, smiling softly. "So, um, what should the three of us do for the night? Do we wanna watch a movie?"

Georgie shoves the rest of her drawings into Stef's hands, and they hurry to catch them all before they fall to the floor. She spins around to face Gabe and exclaims, _"Sorry!_ Daddy, can we _please_ play Sorry?! Stef said they'd play with us sometime! Can we do it tonight? Please please _please?!"_

"Uh," says Gabe, glancing between her and Stef. "Um, yeah, sure, if Stef wants to...?"

"Yeah!" Stef makes sure to keep their tone excited. They like board games well enough, and they don't want to disappoint Georgie. "Absolutely! Gosh, I haven't played Sorry in _ages._ Not since I was a _kid!"_

"That's a _long_ time ago," Georgie says, and Stef can only stare at her, torn between offense and agreement. Beside them, Gabe stifles a laugh.

"Georgie!" he scolds, but there's no actual heat behind his words. "That's not very nice. They're the same age as I am!"

"You're both old," she says, bouncing away from them both.

"No," Gabe says. "You're just a _baby._ "

"I'm _not_ a baby!" Georgie scoffs, opening a cabinet in the kitchen.

"You're _my_ baby," Gabe says, and his voice is half-teasing, half-syrupy. Stef glances over at him to see that his expression's gone soft, his eyes fond as he watches Georgie. Stef's heart flips in their chest.

"Shut _up,_ daddy, I'm _nine!"_ Georgie comes back out of the kitchen with a box clutched to her chest, and she sticks her tongue out at Gabe. Gabe laughs, and he glances over at Stef. Their eyes meet, and he _blushes,_ cheeks darkening. Stef wants to kiss the _heck_ out of him!

Instead, they lean in for a quick peck. "You're cute," they murmur, before following Georgie over to the table, where she's busy setting up the game.

Game night with Gabe and Georgie turns out to be a lot of fun! More fun than they'd expected, even! Maybe more fun than they've had in a long time. Which is _ridiculous,_ because they have fun all the _time!_

Maybe it's just the company.

\-----

Georgie is sent to bed at promptly nine o'clock, and after their usual bedtime routine of Gabe supervising tooth-brushing and then tucking her into bed with a kiss goodnight, he returns to the couch, dropping down beside Stef and immediately leaning on them with a sigh.

"Kid go to sleep okay?" they ask, wiggling their arm between him and the couch cushion and pulling him closer.

"She's not asleep yet," he says. "Probably won't be asleep for another hour or so." He shifts, leaning his head against their shoulder and looking up at them. "Sorry again that this didn't go as planned."

"Gabe," Stef says, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. "It's _fine._ I had fun! You know I like spending time with you _and_ Georgie."

"Yeah," he says. Of course he knows Stef likes Georgie. He wouldn't be _dating_ them if they didn't; anyone who's going to be a part of _his_ life has to accept Georgie into theirs, too. "But it wasn't exactly how we'd _planned_ this date to go."

"I know. We'll just have to reschedule. It's _fine,_ Gabe! _Really!"_ Stef reaches over with the arm not currently occupied with holding him and takes his hand in theirs. "Look, we have an hour before I have to go, right?"

"Yeah...." 

Stef's expression turns mischievous. "Then how about we power up that Netflix account of yours and watch some Clone Wars? Huh?"

Gabe groans, fighting back a laugh. "I _knew_ you were gonna make me watch that!" he says. _"Fine._ We'll watch two episodes, and if I don't like it, I'm never watching it again."

"Okay!" Stef squeezes his hand and then pulls away from him to grab the remote. They're not even gone long enough for him to really miss the feeling of them pressed up against him, but he does anyway.

They settle back into the couch cushions, and this time Gabe wraps his arm around Stef, throwing a leg across their lap for good measure. They wrap their arm around his waist to hold him in place as they turn the TV on.

It's not the night they'd planned on, but Gabe's feeling pretty good anyway.

\-----

Gabe likes the Clone Wars. _Fuck._

  
  


**Wednesday, March 25.**

"You shoulda called Simon!" Madhavi grunts as she settles her weights back into place. "Or, shit, didn't you say Stef's brother volunteered to babysit? Fuck, Gabe, at this point you were just cockblockin' _yourself."_

Gabe groans into his hands. "I panicked!" he says. "I forgot all the backups except for you!"

"Shit, Gabe." Madhavi sighs, and he peeks out from between his fingers to see her shaking her head. "Didja at least have a good time? Even with the kid there?"

"Yeah." He lowers his hands. "We played a couple board games until Georgie went to bed. Made some popcorn, talked. It was nice." It _was_ nice. They've only been dating for a little while, so they haven't had a ton of dates of _any_ kind, but Gabe loves the fun, quiet, talking dates as much as he loves the, er, more _adult-rated_ dates. It's been a while since he's dated _anyone,_ but especially someone he could have _both_ with.

It's just... nice.

\-----

It's a little cooler out than it has been, Gabe notices as he and Georgie head to the park after school. He doesn't know if that's normal for the area, but it's nice to feel a slight chill on his arms as they walk.

"Sarah said she'd be there today!" Georgie tells him, squeezing his hand. "I wish Sam would come to the park sometimes, but they said they don't like all the people." She makes a face. "I told 'em that was stupid, 'cause there's _lots_ of places in the park that don't have hardly _any_ people, but they said hardly any was still too many."

"Sam?" Gabe asks. "As in Lola and Kai's foster kid?"

"Duh." She rolls her eyes, which, okay. Fair, he supposes.

"Have you been talking to Sam much?" he asks her. She nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah! Every time Miss Lola an' Kai let me stay over! Sam's really cool, daddy, I think maybe the coolest big kid I've ever met." She makes another face. _"Way_ cooler than that nasty _Val_ and his friends."

"What do you talk about?" Lola had said just the other day that she couldn't get Sam to talk to her, after all.

"We draw an' stuff," she says. "They say I'm real good. An' smart."

"Both of which are extremely true," he agrees. "Do they ever say anything about Lola or Kai?"

"Jus' that they don't like to talk to adults," she says with a shrug. "Ooh, daddy, the swings are open! Will you push me?!"

She’s off before he can respond, and he chases after her.

\-----

> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** How are you tonight? Was work fun? :-D
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** UGH work was SO fun tofay!!! palayed DND with theb kids and thery frikcin resscuped the cactus beadts from the humans!! that wsasn't even sposed to be a plot point they just DIDI IT i love kids so much 😭😭😭
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Yeah Georgie told me about it! She said it was an "epic battle." Kinda wish I'd been a part of the game, but obviously that can't happen. :'-)
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** ii will run a game for ouy one day that has all the cactus beasts you could ever want i n ti. 
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Aw, that would be fun! Maybe this summer when you'de not so busy, we can organize a game with some friends! :-)
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** *You're
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨** : !!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨** : YEAH!!!! if you have time forr theat whith all youe dinery stuff. i can makee a one shot real easyt! i bet marfco and simon and maybe manani would wanna play!!
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨** : Perfect! Maybe Lola, Kai, and Madhavi too? 
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Well, Madhavi might be too much of a jock to play D&D with us :'-( 
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨** : Oh, Shaw! And Cole! 
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Or is that too many people?
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** the moree tha MAERRIER!! 
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** ddi i ever teel you about theat time shaw dressed up as aere dnd cahracter?
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** No. Why?
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨** : ae woree a LEASTHER CORSET and a aHARNESS to a DND GAEM in FRESHMANN YEAR OF COLELEGE! 
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** A leather corset? And a harness?!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨** : yeah ae useed to be a goth.
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨** : That wasn't really the thing I was shocked by. :-/
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨** : well everytone else was in like tshirts and sweats and stuff like thet and shaaw's just theere in full gettup. it was wild. i think ae got liek two botyfriends tht night.
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Gee Shaw, how come your mom lets you have TWO boyfriends?
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Sorry. Meme reference. ;-)
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** I KNOWE THEAT WAS A MEME YOUE DOON"T HAVE TO TELL ME ETHAT! you;re such a PARETN. 
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** acute parent 😩❤
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** I was diagnosed with acute parenthood nine years ago.
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** SHUTT UP!!!!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** ❤
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** ;-D <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heehee hoohoo they're just chillin. They're just vibin. They're just hangin out and smoochin a little. 😉
> 
> Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this, feel free to leave kudos or a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts!!  
> Or visit me on tumblr! [@enby-jetstar](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this nice soft chapter! ;)


	9. April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEWWO and welcome back to the fic!! I hope you've all been doing well and staying safe!! 💖
> 
> HUUUUGE thank you as always to my wonderful beta-readers, my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: descriptions of panic attack(s), dissociation, self harm via isolation; mentions of self harm via sex; general mental health issues. If you need any extra information to make sure this is safe for you to read, feel free to message me [on tumblr.](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/)  
> 

**Wednesday, April 1.**

  
  
"I have _never_ heard of anything _remotely_ like this product," Gabe says, squinting at the can of pre-workout energy drink that Madhavi's handed him. "I'm pretty sure it's impossible for a fruit juice-based drink to contain thirty grams of protein. Well, I guess it _could,_ but it'd taste terrible and probably be terrible for you in the long run."

Madhavi rolls her eyes. "Just _try_ it, dumbass. It's good! Tastes like drinkin' Skittles an' keeps ya pumpin' iron for twice as long!"

He squints at it again, examining the ingredients list. Thirty grams of protein? Five hours of energy? From _miscellaneous fruit juices?_ Look, he's a chef. He took nutrition classes in college. There's _no_ way this is true. At best Madhavi's been lied to about the benefits of this drink; at worst, she's actively poisoning herself. The only way to know for sure is try a sip for himself, he supposes.

Gabe sighs and cracks open the can. Several brightly-colored _things_ shoot out of the can directly at his face, and he chokes out a scream as he drops the can and slaps at them, heart racing.

He can vaguely hear Madhavi cackling over the sound of his pulse in his veins as he grabs one of the things and holds it up in front of his face.

It's a snake.

A little, spring-loaded fabric snake with lopsided googly eyes.

"God, Gabe, I can't believe you _fell_ for it!" Madhavi laughs, holding her gut and shuffling backwards to collapse onto the bench. "Your _face!_ Ha!"

"I didn't fall for anything!" Gabe says, throwing the little snake at her. It bounces off her forehead and onto the floor, but Gabe doesn't think she notices.

"Can't believe you fuckin' _opened it!_ That's the oldest trick in the book!"

"I was trying to keep you from dying!"

"That doesn't even make _sense,_ Gabe, shit! God, your little scream... that was _good!_ Wish I coulda got that on camera. Simon an' the fam woulda died laughin'."

He grabs the now-empty can and throws it at her, and she catches it and throws it back at him without even looking.

Asshole.

\-----

"You can _not_ trick me!" Stef tells their students for the third time that morning. "I'm not an easy person to trick, especially _today_ of all days!"

Tyler, holding a bag of cookies that have _clearly_ been iced with toothpaste instead of actual _icing,_ pouts at them, but Stef doesn't allow themself to feel sympathy for him. They'd learned their first year of teaching here that they couldn't humor the kids with their jokes and pranks on _any_ day, but _especially_ on _April Fools Day._

They wonder if little Val still looks back on his _"epic prank"_ that year and laughs.... Wow, that kid had _hated_ them.

Stef sends Tyler back to his seat with his bag of ruined cookies and finishes setting up for the next lesson. It's barely 10 AM! They're gonna be dealing with this _all day._

They won't admit it to the kids, of course, but this is one of their favorite days of the school year.

**Saturday, April 4.**

"What are you going to do with a whole _week_ off?" Gabe asks teasingly, his arm stretched across the park bench behind them and his body angled toward them.

Stef sighs, leaning back to look up at the sky and rest their head against his arm. "Sleep," they answer honestly. "Like, I don't like to mess up my sleep schedule too much, so I can't sleep in _late,_ but I've definitely gotta catch up on my sleep. And Marco's usually pretty focused this time of year, which is good, but sometimes he gets so focused on projects he forgets to do things like eat and shower, so most'a my waking hours will prob'ly be spent keepin' an eye on him."

"Oh." Gabe's arm twitches slightly behind them, and then his hand curls inward to rest on their shoulder. "But he's doing a lot better this year, right? So you probably don't have to focus so much of your energy on him."

They shake their head. "This is the first year Marco's doin' so good," they say, "but that's just all the more reason to be there for him and make sure everything's okay. This is the first time in a long time that he's feeling _like this,_ so it's like... uncharted territory."

"Okay," he says. "I think I get it. But he'd probably tell you if he needed help, right? You can do your own thing and just check up on him every once in a while?"

They shrug, leaning forward, and his hand falls away from their shoulder. "I don't want anything to happen to him," they say. "I'll make time for myself when I can. But I wanna spend most of spring break with him, anyway. Haven't been able to properly hang out with him in a while, ya know?" It seems like _Dante's_ been stealing Marco away every chance he gets lately. Stef misses their weekend sitcom sessions.

"Okay," Gabe says, and he readjusts his arm on the back of the bench. "Does that mean no date night next week?"

"Well now," they say, leaning back and tilting their face toward his. "I didn't say _that._ Maybe we can even have an extra date next week! A middle-of-the- _week_ date, even!" They lean toward him, enjoying the way he watches them, brown eyes flickering over their face, lips stretching into a widening smile.

"I'd like that," he says, and leans in to kiss them briefly. They love the slight scratch of his stubble against their skin as he shifts, as he pulls away. "Lola and Kai have _assured_ me they have all of next week open." He pauses, gaze shifting to something above their own eyes, and then he reaches up with his other hand to tuck a lock of hair behind their ear. Their heart flutters in their chest. "What are you doing for Easter?" he asks.

Stef huffs, makes a face. "Nothin'," they say. "We usually go to our parents' for dinner, but since we cut 'em off back at Christmas, we don't have any plans."

"Do you want to come over and hang out with Georgie and me? I usually take her to an egg hunt in the mornings, but since I have to work that morning and no one else wants to be up that early, I'm just gonna do one in the yard for her that afternoon." He tilts his head, and a breeze blows a piece of his long, curly hair into his mouth. He inelegantly spits it out, and Stef snorts. He's cute. "I could use some help hiding eggs, if you wanted to...? You and Marco, of course, if he wants to. We're not religious or anything, but we _do_ have a kinda fancier dinner planned. It wouldn't be difficult for me to double the servings."

Stef grins at him. "That sounds _amazing,"_ they say. "I'll see if Marco's up for it. Kinda wanted to do somethin' with Shaw for Passover, but ae's flying out to aer mom's for that, and I think a fun holiday like that's _perfect_ for Marco! And me."

He leans in to kiss them again, on the cheek this time, and Stef catches his hand in theirs and squeezes it. "It's a date, then," he says, lips moving against their skin.

**Sunday, April 12.**

Stef finds that they quite enjoy the lazy Easter morning. Usually they'd be on their way to their parents' by now, jittery and unprepared for battling their parents over their pronouns and Marco's wellbeing, or already _there,_ sitting anxiously in the pews of a church their parents only bothered to attend a couple of times a year.

But this Sunday is just like any other Sunday--maybe even _better_ than most Sundays for the knowledge that it could be a much _worse_ Sunday. 

Marco's been stretched out on the sofa for a while, his long legs taking up the whole thing, while he carefully lets Angel the corn snake slither from hand to hand. Tomato's nowhere to be seen at the moment, probably shut into Marco's room to prevent the unlikely event of that lazy cat picking a fight with Angel.

The TV's on, playing some sitcom full of canned laughter. Neither Stef nor Marco is actively watching it; it's just there for background noise. 

Stef's in the kitchen, squinting at the recipe on the back of the pancake mix. They have no idea what they're doing wrong, because they're following the directions _perfectly,_ but the pancakes are taking _forever_ to cook, slowly spreading out into a thin, goopy mess. They poke at it with their spatula, but nothing happens. They sigh.

"Marco," they call, "what the _heck_ is wrong with this pancake?"

"It's the stove," Marco says immediately, lifting his head and peeking over the back of the sofa. Angel's draped across the top of his head now, seemingly exploring the stringy blond hairs. "It's old and shitty. You gotta turn the heat up."

"But how _much_ higher?" they ask. "Just like, a couple notches? Or all the way up?"

He shrugs, lifting his hand up and letting Angel slither onto his palm. "I dunno, all I can make is grilled cheese an' stuff like that. Ask your boyfriend."

"He's workin' this morning, and anyway I don't wanna bother him with somethin' like this." They frown at the dial on the stove, then shrug and turn the burner to high. That'll probably work. "We should replace this stove soon," they say. "You're gettin' another big paycheck now that you've finished that project, right? Think we can use a chunk of it for a new stove?"

Marco lays back down, his head disappearing from view. "Don't think so," he says, and there's something off about his tone. Stef can't pinpoint _what_ it is, and they don't like that. It's been happening more often lately, that Marco says something and Stef can't read his tone. They _don't like it._ "Could bring D-- uh, someone in to take a look at it, see if they can fix it for you."

"Maybe." The pancake's _definitely_ cooking now, hissing and browning. Great! Pancake breakfast is back on! They slide the spatula under the pancake and flip it. A few pieces stick to the bottom, but that's okay. The pancake's also a little darker than the golden brown Stef was going for, but that's okay, too. They'll just use extra syrup.

"You're still up for goin' to Gabe's later, right?" they ask, raising their voice a little to make sure they can be heard over the sizzling of the pancake. 

"Yeah," Marco says, and that weird tone is gone from his voice now. "Can I bring Angel? She wants to go outside. An' I bet the kid would like to see her again."

"Uh, I can ask Gabe, I guess," they say. "But we're gonna be there for a while. You sure you wanna have her out that whole time?" The pancake seems done. Heck yeah! That was so fast!

"She'll be fine," he says. "What's that smell?"

Stef's trying to pry the pancake off the bottom of the pan, but it's _stuck._ Crap, crap, _crap!_ "Uh, pancake," they grunt, and give the spatula an especially aggressive yank.

The pancake goes flying out of the pan with such ferocity that Stef yelps and drops the pan. The pan hits the edge of the stove and falls forward; they leap out of the way and the pan hits the floor, skidding across the linoleum and spinning a couple of times before finally coming to a rest right in front of the fridge. The pancake's split into several pieces, two of which have landed on different spots of the kitchen floor, and one of which has landed directly on Stef's shirt. They shriek and yank the fabric away from their chest, the burning chunk of half-cooked dough falling to the floor with a soft _splat._

There's a beat of silence, and then Stef lets out a little laugh, though it's not _funny._

"Are you okay?" Marco asks, standing in the doorway now with the little snake draped over his shoulders, and they laugh again. 

"Yeah," they say. "But, uh, I think pancake breakfast is a no-go this morning."

Marco leans over and picks the pan up off the floor. The action seems to take more effort than one would normally put into it, and is accompanied by a faint pulling sound. "Uh," he says, and they both stare down at the discolored and torn patch of linoleum.

There's another beat of silence. Then, Stef says the only thing they can think of:

"Gosh _freaking_ dang it! Now we're _never_ gonna get our heckin' deposit back!"

\----

"When are Stef an' Marco gonna be here?!" Georgie asks, bouncing on the sofa cushion.

Gabe reaches over and puts a hand on her upper back to gently halt the motion. The morning had been busier than he'd expected, with a bunch of sunrise churchgoers and early-morning egg-hunters coming in for eggs and pancakes. Shaw's still out of town for Passover and will be for the next week, and Bunny's out of town for the weekend, so Gabe had to wait tables alone all morning until Himari got there. He's _exhausted._ He just wants to stretch out and have some peace and quiet for a few minutes... "I'm not sure," he says. "Sometime after lunch."

"Well can ya text 'em? I wanna look for eggs!"

Gabe bites back a groan and fishes his phone out of his pocket with a too-heavy hand. He looks at the time. "It's almost one," he says, "so they'll probably be here soon."

"Yeah, but _when?!"_

With a sigh he hopes she doesn't take to heart, he clumsily unlocks his phone and pulls up his conversation with Stef. He quickly angles the screen away from her, because their last few texts were, uh, _very_ much not for little eyes, and sends them a message.

> **TO: stef✨💖✨** : Do you knwo when you'll be comming?

He gets a reply before his screen's even had a chance to go dark.

> ** FROM:** **stef✨💖✨** : on our rway now!!
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨** : you okay babe thatt wasd TWO typos!!
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨** : Sorry. Just tired. Don't text and drive please!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨** : bee there sson!

He slips his phone back into his pocket and looks at Georgie, who looks like she's about to bounce out of her skin. "They'll be here in a few minutes," he says. "I'm gonna go change. If they get here before I get back, you can let them in, okay? But _only_ open the door for Stef and Marco. No one else."

"Okay, daddy!" Georgie launches herself off the couch and goes over to the window next to the door, staring out through the blinds.

He sighs again, which turns into a chuckle, and heads into his bedroom. He'd love to take a nap right now, but he has too much to do! At least he doesn't have to spend too long on dinner; it might be cheating, but he'd cooked most of it in the diner's kitchen today in between waiting tables, and he'll just have to heat it up when it's time to eat. 

Gabe makes his way to his closet, sliding it open. The door gets stuck on something, and he bends down with a groan to grab whatever it was; it's one of Stef's sweaters. He folds it carefully and sets it aside. Maybe Stef'll want to take it back with them today. Or maybe they'll want to leave it here for when they stay over and need something extra to wear. Hell, if Stef were closer to his size instead of being a scrawny twig, he'd probably wear this sweater. It's cute. He _loves_ cute sweaters. He should wear more cute sweaters. Well, cute _shirts._ It's getting too warm for sweaters.

Most of his fun, weird clothes don't see much wear, because he usually just works in the diner or works out at the gym, and he doesn't want his favorite shirts to get all sweat-stained and unwearable. Dating Stef has given him the excuse he didn't know he needed to wear those clothes again; it's simple enough to choose something that suits his personal style _and_ seems appropriate for the day. 

As he's in the middle of changing, he hears the front door open, and several voices talking-- one's clearly Georgie, voice high and excited; another voice is low, more monotone. Marco's. The third voice sounds nearly as excited as Georgie, and it's the one that makes Gabe bite his lip and finish tugging on his pants. 

"Gabe!" Stef greets him as soon as he emerges from the hallway. "Oh my-- what are you _wearing?"_

"Um." Gabe looks down at himself. He's wearing a pink and blue bowling shirt, buttoned to the top, and a pair or yellow-and-green flower-patterned jeans he'd unearthed at a thrift store a few years ago. "Clothes? Pastels and flowers for Easter."

"You look _ridiculous!"_ they exclaim, and he meets their gaze to see their eyes practically _sparkling._ "I _love_ it! So freaking _festive!"_

"Daddy _loves_ weird clothes!" Georgie tells them. Marco's apparently relinquished Angel to her, because she has the little snake cupped gently in her hands. "We used to go to thrift stores an' he'd have me pick the ugliest outfit I could an' then we'd buy it an' he'd wear it _all_ day."

Marco snorts, and Gabe feels his face heat up, sort of embarrassed even though he _shouldn't_ be; he _does_ love ugly and mismatched clothes. But then Stef gasps an excited, breathy _"Really?"_ and Georgie starts telling them a story about the awful zebra-and-cheetah-print shirt she'd found a couple of years ago. Marco gives him a little smirk that might seem mean-spirited on anyone else's face, but Gabe _knows_ it means Marco's being supportive and showing him that he's _happy._ Gabe feels the tension and tiredness leave his body in one big _whoosh._

He laughs, and steps forward to join the three of them.

\-----

"D'you remember when we used to do egg hunts?" Stef asks Marco as they slip a brightly-colored plastic egg into a crevice beneath a particularly large rock.

Marco snorts. "Yeah," he says. "Back when we were kids. I always got more than you." 

Stef straightens up, clutching the little box containing the remaining eggs they still have to hide, only to see their baby brother standing on his tippy toes, stretching his whole long body up and up and _up_ to place an egg in the tall branches of one of the Joshua trees in Gabe's yard. They sigh. "How the heck is that _little girl_ supposed to reach that, Marco?!"

He shrugs, lowering his heels back to the ground and turning to look over his shoulder at them. "Kids like to climb," he says. "An' all she has to do is _spot_ it." He picks up his own box and looks around the yard.

They shake their head. _"Anyway._ You only got more eggs than me 'cause I _let_ you," they say. 

"Maybe the first couple times," he says, balancing an egg perfectly upright on the same rock Stef had just hidden their egg under, "when I was like _five._ But after that I won with sheer _skill._ "

They roll their eyes, but don't disagree. They have two eggs left to hide. Maybe in that clump of spiky grass? It's pretty thick, hard to see unless you were _lookin'._ They move toward it. "Do you ever miss stuff like that? Just messin' around, goofin' off, havin' fun? No responsibilities?"

Marco's quiet for a few long moments, hiding his last few eggs. "I don't know," he says finally. "Sometimes. I guess." he balances the empty box on top of his head. "I try not to, though. Marie says I should focus on the present more'n the past. Look forward to the future instead'a wishin' for the past." The box slips off his head, and he catches it before it hits the ground. "Think I've been havin' enough fun lately that I don't hafta worry about it so much anymore, anyway."

Stef nods, smiling to themself as they hide their final egg behind a particularly lacy piece of cactus wood. "I'm glad," they say, holding their own empty box in one hand dangling at their side. "You deserve all the best, baby bro. We're gonna keep havin' fun for the rest of our lives."

"Yeah." Marco turns then and heads back to Gabe's house. "Let's go let Gabe an' Georgie know the egg hunt's on."

Stef follows him. Today's a good day. The best Easter they've had in a _long_ time, even if it started out kinda rocky. 

They think maybe they've never been happier.

**Friday, April 17.**

"Stef? 'M home."

Stef, who's been correcting this week's spelling tests on the couch, looks over at Marco as he shuts the front door behind him and gives him a grin. "Hey, baby bro!" they say. "How was it? Didja have a good time? Need a break? Somethin' to eat?"

"No. I mean, yeah it was fun. No, I don't need any food." Marco crosses the living room and stands in front of the couch instead of sitting down. He has two paper cups in his hands. 

They raise an eyebrow at him. "Marco? Everything okay?" He'd texted them before they'd left the school that he wouldn't be home when they got back, that he'd gone out for a walk. That made Stef happy; Marco rarely goes anywhere alone, and when he does it's usually a quick stop to grab something to eat. Going for a walk must mean he's doing even better.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Great." He hesitates another moment longer, then sits on the couch. He holds one of the cups out to Stef, who takes it. It's warm. "Tea," he says. "Sorry, they just had plain black. Uh, there's sugar in it."

They take a sip. Plain black tea isn't their favorite, but it's not awful. "Thanks!" they say. "What's this for? Just 'cause?" They set the cup on the table in front of them.

"Well. Not exactly." Marco's looking down at his own cup in his hands. His shoulders are tense. Stef's heart beats faster. _What's wrong?_

They open their mouth to ask just that, but Marco starts speaking before they can start.

"I have to talk to you," he says. 

"Yeah, of course," they say, shifting on the couch and turning to face him. "What's wrong?" His hands tighten on his cup, and a thought strikes them, sharp and sudden. "Is this about Dante?"

Marco jerks his head toward them, his gaze meeting their own. "You knew?"

"Marco, I--" Anger building in their gut, face heating up, chest feeling tight. "I _knew_ he was no good! Marco, what the heck did he _do?!"_ They can't believe this. They _can_ believe this! Dante used their brother, took advantage of him and his fragile heart and his bad state of mind, and now--

"What did he _do?"_ Marco asks. His eyes are wide, and then suddenly they're narrow, his whole face tightening. "Why do you always think Dante's done something _wrong?_ " He bites out the last word, making it sound like a curse.

"He's _always_ doing something wrong!" Stef insists. "Marco, look, you can tell me what he did. I'll sort it out, okay? You can just forget he ever _existed_ and-- and it doesn't have to _change_ anything, I'm sure together we can figure it out, and Marie can help! This is just a snag in your recovery, okay, you--"

"Dante didn't _do_ anything!" Marco snaps, and it's loud, it's harsh, it's _scary._ Marco doesn't _yell._ Not usually.

Not at _Stef._

"You've been against Dante since the beginning, and I don't know _why!"_ he says, and he's standing now, his cup held tight in his hand, knuckles white and coffee spilling over the edge. "You always say you want me to be _happy,_ you want me to _live life._ And then I _do,_ and I meet Dante, I _fall in love,_ and you keep trying to--to rip that _away_ from me!"

"Marco!" Stef doesn't know what to do, how to respond. " _All_ I want is for you to be happy! And Dante's-- he's-- he's not--"

"Dante _makes_ me happy! He's _good_ for me!"

"No he isn't! He's just gonna end up hurting you, he's _already_ hurt you--"

"No he _hasn't!_ God, Stef, why can't you--" He closes his eyes, slowly letting out a breath. His grip loosens on the cup, and he gingerly sets it on the coffee table. He breathes again, shoulders losing their tension. He opens his eyes and meets their gaze again. "Dante has never hurt me," he says, voice even, calm. "I love Dante. I'm going to _marry_ Dante one day. And I wanted to tell you that I'm moving in with him."

The world seems to stop, suddenly, and then reverse and tilt and everything's weird and off and _wrong,_ and someone asks, "When?" and it's Stef's voice but they don't remember saying anything, _thinking_ anything.

"In June," he says. "He asked me to move in with him a couple of months ago, but I needed some time to think. Marie said I should do what I thought was best for me and for my mental health. I think living with him will help me. It'll be good to live in a new place, do things differently. Help me pull myself the rest of the way out of my depression."

He's talking so fast they can barely comprehend it. All they can do is stare at him, watch his jaw move as he talks. Their ears are ringing.

"And, I mean. I love him. I wanna spend more time with him. His house is about the size of this apartment, but there's an extra room he says I can make into an office, so I'm not always doing my work in my room or on the couch. And there's a yard. It'll be nice to sit outside at night and watch the stars whenever I want. And I just... I love him. You know?"

"No," Stef says, and the ringing is fading, the world straightening, the horror and rage building. _"No,_ Marco, you can't--you can't _move in_ with _Dante!"_

"I'm going to," he says. "In June. In two months."

"But-- _Marco!_ " They stand, their hands reaching out to him, gripping his shoulders. He stares down at them, careful. "Marco, you can't-- you can't-- Dante's just _using_ you! What the heck do you think he's gonna do to you once you _live_ together?! Marco, _no!"_

Marco's face morphs from hopeful to _enraged_ in an instant. Stef's _never_ seen him look like that.

"Why would you _say_ that?!" He jerks out of their grip, takes a step back. "Dante _loves_ me, he's never done anything to--"

"He's taking advantage of you! _Crap,_ Marco, don't you _see_ it?" They reach for him again, but he steps back before they can touch him. "You met him when you were more emotionally vulnerable than you've _ever_ been, and you got _engaged_ a week later! Marco, he's just like all those other guys, except he's been using you for _months_ instead of just a _night!_ "

Marco's face falls for a split second, and then his expression is gone, face blank except for the anger in his eyes. "You're using that against me?" he says, voice passive, monotone. "Everything I've been through, and you're using that against me." He shakes his head, turns away. "I'm done arguing with you. Never mind about June."

Guilt and relief bloom in tandem within Stef's chest. "So, you're not moving out?"

"No, I _am_ moving out," he says, and Stef freezes. "I just mean I'm leaving _now._ " He's moving again, long legs carrying him to his room before Stef can react, and he disappears inside.

Stef shakes themself and runs after him. _"Marco!_ No, what, you can't _leave,_ not-- not like _this!"_

He's shoving clothes and things off his floor into a duffel bag, his back to them. "I'm not talking to you," he says. 

"Marco, _listen_ to me!"

He doesn't say anything. He zips up his bag and stands up. His eyes are like ice now, the fiery rage transformed. He leans over and scoops Tomato off the bed, the cat making a soft _mrrp?_ sound as he's awoken. 

"Marco," they start, but they don't know what else to say. He nudges Tomato into his carrier and locks the door, ignoring the cat's loud protests. _"Marco._ "

He pushes past Stef and moves to the front door. They can't even move to stop him. 

"I'll send someone to get Angel and the rest of my stuff later," he says. "Bye."

And then he's gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

They can't even speak.

He's _gone._

\-----

Stef doesn't know how much time actually passes between the time the door shuts behind Marco and when Shaw's voice reaches their ear, tinny through the phone's speaker. 

_"Steffie!"_ ae exclaims. _"Hey! Couldn't wait to see me tomorrow, huh? We're about to eat dinner, so--"_

"Marco's gone," they blurt out, even though it doesn't quite feel _true._ "I-- he's _gone,_ he _left,_ Dante _took_ him and I don't know what to _do!_ "

_"Hey, hey, whoa, shh, calm down,"_ Shaw says, and Stef grips the phone tighter against their head. _"What do you mean? Where did Marco go?"_

"He _left!"_ And so Stef relays the events prior to calling as best they can, stammering over words as they try to get their story straight. 

_"Oh, Steffie,"_ Shaw says after they finish, and Stef can't tell if ae's being soothing or condescending. _"You knew he would leave eventually."_

"But he _can't_ be on his own yet! He's not _ready,_ he's still-- still recovering, and--"

 _"He's not on his own,"_ Shaw tells them. _"He has Dante. He'll be okay, Stef."_

"Dante's the _problem!"_ Stef insists. They throw their head back against the sofa cushion they're sitting against on the floor. "He's--"

 _"Stef,"_ Shaw says sternly. _"You_ need _to stop putting all this blame on Dante."_ Aer voice softens. _"He's a good guy. He's_ good _for Marco, Stef. You can tell just by watching them when they're together."_

"He--"

 _"No, shush. We're not talking about Dante or Marco anymore. Now. I won't be back 'til tomorrow. Are you okay spending the night alone?"_ _  
_ _Alone._ The word makes Stef's breath hitch, their vision blur. "I--"

_"Shh, shh, Steffie. It's okay. Why don't you call Gabe? I'm sure he'll let you stay the night."_

"No! No, I-- I'm fine." It's a lie, of course. They're the farthest from _fine_ they could possibly be. Marco's abandoned coffee cup sits on the table in front of them, right at eye level, sugary liquid pooling and congealing at its base. They can't let Gabe see them like this.

 _"I don't think you are,"_ Shaw says, worry coming through in aer tone. _"Call Gabe. Please? Or Simon. He seems like he'd be good company."_

Stef doesn't reply. Simon isn't-- Simon wouldn't help them. He's their _work_ friend. And Gabe.... Gabe _can't_ see them like this!

Their face is damp. When did they start crying? Or have they stopped now? They wipe their face with the back of their hand. Marco's _gone._

_"Stef, do you want to join me and Mama for dinner?"_

That startles a laugh out of Stef. "What?" they ask. "You're on the other side of the country!"

They can practically hear aer roll aer eyes. _"We can switch to video,"_ ae says. _"We can all hang out. Last night was the last day of Passover, so you missed the feast, but I still need to help set the table."_ Ae pauses. _"You'll feel better if you talk to Mama."_

Stef sighs. Everything feels off. They're... not quite numb, but... almost? "I brought up the guys," they say. "To Marco. That's what did it. That's why he left."

_"You_ what? _Stef."_ Shaw sounds angry. Disappointed? But only for an instant. _"Stef. You need a distraction. Company. Give me a few minutes to help Mama, and then I'll facetime you, okay?"_

"Okay," they agree, not sure what else to do.

_"Clean yourself up a little if you have to. Get a drink, a snack. I love you, Stef. You're okay."_

"Love you, too," they say, and the line goes dead.

They sit there for a moment more, staring at Marco's cold coffee cup, the sticky beige puddle. It's Stef's fault. Stef drove him away. They shouldn't have-- They should have chased Dante off, should have said something different, convinced Marco--

They wipe their eyes. Stand up. Go into the bathroom and wash their face, comb their hair. Their roots are starting to show. They'll need to touch them up soon.

What if Dante's hurting Marco right now? What if Stef made Marco so upset that Dante's seeing it as his best opportunity to manipulate him, to convince him--

A little bit of concealer to hide the red splotches on their face. Some mascara to freshen up their look.

They leave the bathroom and step right over to the dinner table, fiddle with their phone and lean it against the empty fruit bowl.

They don't even know where Dante _lives,_ where Marco _is._ How are they supposed to know everything's okay, how _can_ everything be okay?!

The screen lights up, and the phone vibrates, falling away from the fruit bowl. Stef grabs it immediately, swiping their thumb across the screen to answer it.

Shaw's face appears, all tan skin and gap-toothed smile, and the relief that washes over them is almost tangible. _"Steffie!"_ ae says. _"Lookin' good! Mama! Say hi to Stef!"_

The scenery whirls around as Shaw disappears and Stella takes aer place in frame. _"Hi, hun!"_ she says, grinning. She looks like an older, paler version of Shaw. _"You missed Pesach again! A shame, it was fun this year."_

"Sorry, Mama Stella," they say. "Maybe I'll be there next year."

_"Mm, I hear that every year,"_ she teases, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. Stef feels a little better already. _They shouldn't feel better._

Shaw laughs in the background, and then aer face appears next to Stella's, both of them squeezing in frame. _"Stef promises they'll spend every night of Hanukkah with us next year,"_ ae says. _"Isn't that enough?"_

_"I suppose."_ She laughs, and turns the conversation to a story about something one of her other Jewish friends had done earlier that week, and Stef sits and listens and comments and pretends their world hasn't fallen down around them.

  
  


**Saturday, April 18.**

> **TO: baby bro:** marco im sorry i said that i didnt mean to bring it up like that
> 
> **TO: baby bro** : i just want you to be safe and i dont think dante is good for you
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** marco are you getting my texts?
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** please answer me
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Are you still coming over tonight? It's okay if you're busy or just not feeling up to it. We can reschedule! :-)
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** marco you know i love you right?
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** i want you to be happy!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Hey, I'm sorry if I went too far with previous messages, or something. You can always tell me if I do or say something you don't like. I won't be upset.
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Or maybe I'm just being paranoid, LOL. Maybe you're just busy. In which case, sorry for being clingy. I just want to make sure you're doing okay.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** marco please stop ignoring me!

\-----

Stef hasn't been answering his texts. Which is really weird, because Stef usually replies _right away_ unless they're at work or something, and Gabe has been bringing his _A-game_ to this whole sexting thing. Some really good stuff, he thinks.

But they haven't replied since yesterday; they haven't even _read_ the messages as far as he can tell. They're going on a date tonight, but he doesn't even know what time to expect them.

Gabe wipes his hands on his apron. "Takin' a ten-minute break," he tells Taiki, who glances at him and gives a slight nod before going back to his cooking.

Gabe steps outside, sitting down on the concrete step at the back of the kitchen and pulling his phone out. Still no reply. Biting his lip, he sends them another message.

> **TO: stef:** Hey, I'm sorry if I went too far with previous messages, or something. You can always tell me if I do or say something you don't like. I won't be upset.
> 
> **TO: stef:** Or maybe I'm just being paranoid, LOL. Maybe you're just busy. In which case, sorry for being clingy. I just want to make sure you're doing okay.

He pockets his phone again, but it buzzes before he's even fully extracted his hand. Hurriedly, he yanks it back out, turning the screen back on to see he has one new text.

His hopes are dashed when he sees that it's not from Stef, but instead from Shaw. He opens it anyway. Oh, right, ae's back in town today, starting back up at work tomorrow. That's good. The diner's always a little more subdued without Shaw around.

> **FROM: Shaw Reidel:** hey hey bossaroo the lovely and talented shaw reidel is back in town! how's stef doin?

It strikes him as strange that ae would ask him about Stef; ae's their best friend, and he _knows_ they have each other's numbers. 

The worry increases.

> **TO: Shaw Reidel:** Welcome home! I hope the flight wasn't too bad. :-) I haven't heard from Stef since yesterday. Do you think something's wrong?
> 
> **FROM: Shaw Reidel:** wait they didn't call you?
> 
> **FROM: Shaw Reidel:** they were supposed to call you last night. i thought they were staying at your place last night.
> 
> **TO: Shaw Reidel:** No, our date isn't until tonight.
> 
> **FROM: Shaw Reidel:** they seriously didn't tell you??
> 
> **FROM: Shaw Reidel:** can you call em? It's important.
> 
> **TO: Shaw Reidel:** They didn't pick up.
> 
> **FROM: Shaw Reidel:** shit! listen, can you go over there? they really need someone right now, but i gotta go talk to marco.

And just like that, Gabe's up, fumbling his phone and nearly dropping it as he scrabbles for the door handle.

"I have to go," he calls into the kitchen, and Taiki looks up sharply. "I have to-- it's an emergency!"

Taiki nods once and turns back to his cooking. "I'll take care of the kitchen," he says. 

Gabe's in too much of a panic to properly thank him. He turns around again and slams the kitchen door shut behind him as he flies around the building to his car. _Something's wrong with Stef._ Something's _seriously_ wrong with Stef, apparently, and Gabe doesn't know what it is, but if they were supposed to call him last night, if they were supposed to _come over_ last night, and they didn't, then _what's wrong?_

His mind goes to a hundred different places as he drives, and none of them are good. He realizes halfway to Stef's apartment that he hasn't replied to Shaw's message, that maybe ae will worry, that maybe ae's sent him some more information that would make him feel a lot less terrified, but he can't pull over to check now.

He keeps his hand on his phone as he exits the car and makes his way up to Stef's apartment. He hasn't been here before, and his mind is moving way too fast as his eyes scan the walls for Stef's apartment number.

As soon as he finds it, he raps his knuckles sharply against the door. "Stef?" he calls. "Are you here?"

There's a long moment of silence, during which Gabe runs through an additional three scenarios, and then he hears a shuffling noise, and a chain sliding, and the door creaks open just enough, and he's met with Stef's face.

Relief courses through him. They're not _dead_ or _kidnapped_ at least. "Oh thank _God,"_ he says. "You're alive."

"Of course I'm alive," they say, and their face is paler than it should be, their hair tangled in spots. They're not smiling. Something's _still_ wrong.

"Shaw was worried about you," he says, and they bite their lip. "And so was I. I-- can I come in?"

They stare at him a moment longer, and then they move back, pulling the door open enough for him to slip inside. He does so, and they shut the door immediately. He turns to them.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "You look-- tired."

They rub their eye with the side of their hand. "I'm fine," they say, clearly trying (and failing) to sound chipper. 

"You're not," he says as gently as possible, and after a moment's hesitation, he shuffles closer, putting a hand on their shoulder. They stiffen slightly, and he withdraws the touch, hand dropping to his side, but he doesn't back away. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Please tell me, Stef."

They shake their head slightly, hair falling into their face, and they glance at him through the curtain of red. They're quiet a moment, and then they swallow, and straighten up, shaking the hair back out of their face.

"Marco left yesterday," they say, and they sound so forlorn... But he doesn't understand why.

"What do you mean?" he asks, followed by, "Can I put my arm around you?"

Stef blinks, and then nods, edging closer to him. He wraps his arm around their slim shoulders, pulling them against his chest. They stiffen again, but then relax, melting against him. He tightens his grip. "He moved out," they mumble. "Left the _apartment._ Left _me."_

"He--?" That's weird. Marco hadn't mentioned anything about moving out... had he? Not that Marco tells him _everything,_ obviously, but that seems like the type of thing that you might mention to a friend during even just casual conversation. And shouldn't _Stef_ have known about it, too? And maybe mentioned it to him? "That's... sudden."

"He wasn't supposed to leave until _June,"_ they say. "He wasn't supposed to-- _ngh."_ They sound like they're biting their tongue, and they drop their head down, forehead pressing into his shoulder. "Dante made him leave."

"Dante did what?" Gabe shuffles over to Stef's couch and tugs them to sit down beside him. "That doesn't-- why would Dante _make_ Marco leave?"

"I don't _know,_ Gabe, but Marco wouldn't just _leave_ me like that if _Dante_ hadn't started _manipulating_ him!" They clutch at his shirt, bunching it up in their hand, fingers digging into his chest. 

"Manipulating--?" This doesn't make any _sense._ He's seen Dante and Marco interact, and he hasn't seen anything but _genuine_ feeling there... But it wouldn't be obvious to an outsider like Gabe if there was really something shady going on, would it? He holds them tighter, hand stroking over their back. "Stef. Can you elaborate on that? I want to understand."

Stef sighs. "Okay," they say. Their frame goes limp against him but it feels more like _defeat_ than relaxation. He doesn't stop moving his hand in comforting patterns over their back. "So, um, I guess I should start at the beginning." They take a breath, roll away from him just enough that they can sit upright, shift to face him. 

"That's usually the best place to start," he says, but they don't smile.

"I told you that Marco got really depressed when he was fifteen, and that he only started recovering this last summer."

"Yeah. You said you'd been taking care of him since you were eighteen."

"Right. An' I told you he was really apathetic, had low energy. I..." They shake their head.

"You told me you took care of him," Gabe finishes. "I remember, Stef. But... what does that have to do with him leaving?"

"I _couldn't_ take care of him," Stef says, clasping their hands in their lap. "Not always! I-- Sometimes he did things, things that _hurt_ him, and I couldn't _stop_ him! I didn't _know_ I _needed_ to stop him until it'd been going on for-- for _too_ long, and--"

He reaches over and puts his hand on theirs, squeezes gently but firmly. "Stef, calm down. Breathe." He waits until they suck in a breath and let it out slowly, shoulders rising and falling with the motion. "Good. Now. You said you were going to start at the beginning."

They're staring down at Gabe's hand on theirs, not looking at him. "I shouldn't even be telling you this," they say quietly. "It's--Marco--"

"Stef," he interrupts, reaching over with his free hand to carefully swipe his finger across the freckles on their cheek. They glance up at him, lock eyes. "I want to help you," he says, slipping his hand down to cup their chin. He slowly runs his thumb across the skin just below their bottom lip. "In order to help you, I _need to know what's going on."_

They don't break eye contact with him for a long moment, and then they sigh, leaning on him again. He wraps his arm around their shoulders. "Right," they say. "Well. Sometimes, Marco had... more energy, but he was still _depressed,_ you know? That's when he was maybe at his worst, because he didn't _feel_ anything, and he wanted to be _happy._ And Shaw and I, we didn't know what was going through his head 'til later, so we let him-- we _encouraged_ him to--"

They're getting worked up again. "Stef," he mutters, dropping his chin to press a kiss to the top of their head.

There's a pause, and then they continue, still speaking fast, but with less of a panicked edge. "Marco used to sneak out of the apartment and sleep around with any guys who'd pick him up at the bar."

_Well._ That certainly wasn't what Gabe had been expecting to hear. "Okay," he says, trying to cover his flustering with a cough, "uh, well, I mean. That's. _I've_ had casual-- _you've_ \--"

They sigh again, clearly exasperated. "Marco wasn't doing it for _fun,_ Gabe, he was doing it because he wanted to _feel_ something, and those guys took _advantage_ of him! Him and his situation!"

"What?" Okay, well that's _definitely_ a different situation, but... somehow the pieces still don't quite fit together, he thinks. "Stef--"

"He _told_ me about it, Gabe!" They pull away from him, twist to level him with a wide-eyed stare. "He told me he _hated_ it, that he felt _worse_ every freaking time, but he still did it because it was _something._ He'd rather feel like garbage, rather be _used_ than feel that-- that _nothingness_ anymore!"

"Stef, that's _horrible."_ He reaches out to catch their hand again, but they pull it away, dig their fingers into the fabric of their pants instead. He drops his hand. "I'm sorry he had to go through something like that. I _am._ But, I'm sorry, I don't know what that has to do with him moving out." Nothing he'd seen lately had made Gabe think Marco was planning something like that, or that he was feeling so... _low._ "He's recovered, right?"

"Recover _ing._ He's not completely over it yet. And that's _why_ he moved out, Gabe!" They reach up and push the stray hairs out of their face. "He left because Dante's doing the _exact same thing_ as those guys."

"What?" The word is out of Gabe's mouth before he's really realized it. "Stef, they're _engaged."_ Being engaged to someone is probably the farthest thing from hooking up with someone at a bar.

Stef's jaw flexes. "Do you know how long they dated before they got engaged?"

"No."

"A _week,_ Gabe. A freaking _week!"_ They throw their hands up in the air, and at that moment, their phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of them. They scramble for it, swipe their thumb across the screen-- and then they slump, dropping the phone back on the table. "Seven days," they say, sounding more subdued now. "That's _it."_

"Uh." Gabe has no idea what's even _happening_ anymore. "Well, that--that seems abrupt, sure, but--"

"Dante's taking advantage of him, and Marco's _letting_ him because he thinks that _love_ is the only thing that can make him happy!" They jerk toward him, hands falling to his thighs as they stare up at him. "He doesn't-- he doesn't even know what love _is!_ Dante's manipulating him, and has been for _months!"_

"Stef." It's like they're _crazed,_ and he doesn't know what to _do,_ has no idea how to calm them down from _this!_ This isn't a panic attack, this is-- he doesn't know _what_ it is, doesn't know how to handle it. All he can do is try to be calm and help them see the situation for how it really is. "Stef, I'm sorry, but I've _met_ Dante. I've seen how the two of them _act_ around each other, and around _other_ people. I can't believe that Dante's manipulating Marco. He's so _genuine,_ and Marco's _happy_ with him."

"Why doesn't anyone _believe_ me?!" They wrench themself away from him, stagger to their feet. He reaches for them, unsure, but they spin around, their back to him. "I _know_ my brother! And I know he would _never_ leave me like this, not of his own free will!"

Their phone buzzes again, but this time it goes ignored.

"Stef. I... I think you need to relax and think about this." Gabe stands, too, but he takes a step back, away from Stef. "Marco's _fine._ He's _happy."_

They shake their head, shoulders rising and tensing. "Marco is--!"

There's a knock at the door, and before either of them can say anything, it opens, and suddenly _Shaw_ is here. Gabe's never felt so relieved to see aer; surely _ae_ will know how to handle this!

"Steffie," ae says, and ae sounds so _sad._ "I'm just here to get Angel for Marco. He asked me--"

"I _know_ what he asked you," they snap, turning to aer now, nostrils flared. "Just-- just _take_ her, okay, and when you see Marco--" They shake their head, shoulders drooping. "Just, ask him to call me. Or text me. Please?"

"I will," ae says, and aer tone is so _gentle._ Ae skates across the room to the hallway, shooting Gabe an apologetic look but not saying anything to him.

"Gabe," Stef says, and he turns his attention to them again, but they're not looking at him; they're looking at something behind him, gaze focused at some point above his right ear. "I think you should go."

"What? But-- do you need--"

_"Leave,"_ they say, mouth a thin line across their face.

"Okay," he says, and he turns and hurries to the door, pausing only once he's reached the doorway. He looks at them again; they aren't looking at him. "I'll text you later," he says. "I'm sorry."

They don't reply.

He shuts the door quietly behind him.

  
  


**Wednesday, April 22.**

"Morning, Stef!" Simon says, his tone so dang _gentle_ it drives Stef crazy in the worst way. "How're ya doin' today?"

They look over their shoulder and stretch their lips into something that's probably more grimace than smile, but Simon's not one of their kids or one of the newbies, so they don't feel guilty about it. "Great," they say, slipping a paperclip over the stack of photocopies in front of them.

"Did you get some sleep last night?" he asks, slipping in beside them. They don't look up at him; they already know his face will be a mask of _pity,_ and they can't _stand_ it!

"Plenty," they say. They tuck their papers into their binder and close it with a snap. They still have a few things they need copies of today, but they don't need them until after lunch, so they'll just do it later.

"...And... have you heard anything from Marco?"

Stef hastily shoves their binder under their arm and turns on their heel to march out of the supply room. "I have work to do," they say. "And I'm sure you do, too."

"Stef," they can hear the jerk following behind him, soles of his shoes tapping against the linoleum. "Stef, I think you should take a couple of days off. You look like you could use it."

They bite their tongue to keep from replying. They're doing _just fine._

"Just a couple of days. There's plenty of good subs who can work last-minute. Just take a couple days to relax and get yourself together and--"

"Thank you," Stef cuts him off as soon as they reach the threshold of their own classroom's door, "for your concern, Mr. Moore. School will be starting soon. Shouldn't _you_ be finishing your prep work?" They proceed to their desk, not looking back at him.

"I just want you to be okay, Stef," he says, and there's a quiet sadness in his tone that makes Stef want to _scream._

They don't reply.

A few seconds later, they hear Simon sigh, and leave.

They let themself sink into their chair and pull out their phone. Two new messages. Gone are the hopeful bubbles in their chest that they might be texts from Marco; they open them with a sense of dread.

> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** marco's doin good! still alive, still workin and eatin and all that good stuff.
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** steffie, you should call gabe. he's gonna wear a trench in the kitchen from all this pacing. SO annoying.

The dread in their stomach only worsens, and they shove their phone back into their pocket. No _way_ are they calling Gabe. Not after what had happened last week! They're not ready. He shouldn't have seen them like that, and-- and he shouldn't have taken Dante's _side,_ that was the _worst_ thing he could have-- and he shouldn't have _seen_ them like that, and they shouldn't have said-- they shouldn't have--!

They shake their head to clear it, clench their fists at their sides. Now's not the time to think about any of that! They have to finish getting ready for class.

\-----

"Simon says they look like shit," Madhavi says, leaning over Gabe as he finishes his set of bench-presses. "I dunno what else to tell ya, Gabe, they don't tell Simon anything so I don't have anything for _you!"_

Gabe grunts as he sets the bar aside and sits up, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Thanks anyway," he says. "I just... I feel like I _should_ know what to do for them, but I _don't._ I feel like... like a bad boyfriend, I guess." He sighs.

Madhavi's hand falls heavy on his shoulder, and he looks up to see her looming above him, shaking her head. "You're not a _bad boyfriend,_ Gabe. Look, you've known 'em for less than a year, yeah? You've been datin' for like _two months._ "

"Yeah, so--"

_"So,"_ she cuts him off, "ya can't expect to know all their ins an' outs an' all that shit. Let 'em process or whatever the hell they need to do an' they'll call ya when they're ready." She pulls away from him, hand sliding off of his shoulder, and he moves to help her stack the weights. 

"Thanks, Madhavi," he says. He doesn't exactly feel _better_ about this whole situation with Stef, but... well, he doesn't feel as _guilty_ about it, either. "I hope they call me soon. ...You know, you're pretty good at this _feelings_ stuff."

She groans. "It's _Simon's_ fault!" she exclaims. "Living with the guy, that kinda shit just rubs off on ya, y'know?"

"Oh? So you mean to tell me that without Simon, you'd be a horrible, unfeeling person?"

"No! Shut the fuck up, Gabe!"

He laughs and jostles her shoulder, earning a few seconds in a headlock in return.

  
  


**Saturday, April 25.**

> **TO: baby bro:** i boxed up the rest of your things. you can send shaw to pick them up whenever you want.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** or come over yoursellf. maybe we could talk? have lunch or something?
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** *yourself. sorry.
> 
> **FROM: si:** Hey! Madhavi n I r havin a game nite tonite @ 7:30 if u wanna com by! Snacks n drinks! 
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** i'm coming by after work to pick up the last of marco's things. if you want, we can grab a bite to eat today. sound good steffie?
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** i wish you would talk to me. 
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** i know you read my messages.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** just tell me you're doing okay. let me know how your day went.
> 
> **FROM: si:** Haven't heard from u yet! It's ok if ur a lil late 2 game nite! Drop by wenevr!
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** night marco. i love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha.... ah.... a bit of a tonal shift there suddenly, huh? :') Very sorry for that. BUT!! I promise this is necessary and that things will get better!! :'))))
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter (or have Feelings about it in some way), feel free to leave kudos or a comment! I'd love to know your thoughts!! 💖💖💖  
> You can also send me a message on tumblr ([@enby-jetstar](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/))!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! ✨💜✨


	10. May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! I hope you're doing well! 💖 And if you're not, I hope you'll be feeling better by the time you get to the end of this chapter. 💖
> 
> Absolutely ENORMOUS thank-you to my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this!! ✨💖✨💖✨
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: mentions/discussions of self-harm and bad coping mechanisms, mentions of sex, general mental health issues.

**Friday, May 1.**

"Hey bossaroo," Himari says, sticking their head in the gap of his office door. "Ya got a visitor! If you're not too busy!"

Gabe, who's just finished a mountain of paperwork and _desperately_ needs a break, stands up immediately. "Of course!" he says. "Who is it?"

"That lil' guy with the metal fingers!" Himari taps one bright green fingernail against their teeth. "What's his name? Dante?"

"Oh!" Gabe hasn't seen Dante--or Marco, for that matter--since... well, for a couple of weeks now. "Yeah, okay. Uh, does he wanna come in here, or--?"

"I'm already here," Dante says, pushing the door open as he makes his way past Himari. "Gabe! Dude. We _gotta_ talk."

"Right, yeah, definitely! Uh, Himari? Could you--" 

"Yeah, sorry, I'll get outta your hair! I got tables to wait, tips to collect!" They toss him a wink and turn away, shutting the door soundly behind them.

Dante drops into the chair in front of Gabe's desk with a groan. _"Fuck_ I'm tired," he says. "Just got off work."

"Oh." Gabe sits back down, too, though his butt and leg muscles protest. "Sorry. Mechanics must be _exhausting._ I don't know a lot about it, but it _looks_ tiring."

Dante waves a hand at him. "Yeah, yeah, it's rough, but that's not what I'm here about." He leans forward suddenly, hands planted on the desk as he stares Gabe down. "I need you to talk to that datemate'a yours."

"Stef?"

" _Yes,_ Stef. Unless you got another one layin' around someplace!"

"No, just Stef." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Dante, I can't help you. Stef's not taking any of my calls or answering any of my texts."

Dante groans, leaning back in the chair and raising his face toward the ceiling. "Damn it, really? They've been doin' nothin' _but_ textin' Marco. Had to put his phone on silent so he wasn't jitterin' outta his skin every time the damn thing went off."

Gabe bites his lip. Shaw had told him that Stef wasn't answering aer texts, either. It _can't_ be a good thing that they're so focused on their brother like this. It's been _two weeks!_ They've been practically isolating themself from _everyone,_ and Gabe doesn't know what to _do._ He doesn't know if it's his _place_ to do anything about it.

"This whole thing's really takin' a toll on him," Dante continues, sitting forward again. "Like, I _get_ that they don't like me. They think I'm tryin' to take advantage of Marco or whatever. But, _fuck._ That's the farthest fuckin' thing from my mind! I want him to be happy, y'know? An' this whole _thing_ with his sibling is sendin' Marco to some dark places."

"Can I ask," Gabe says before he can stop himself, " _why_ Stef thinks that? I mean--" he hurries on as Dante gives him a dark look, "I just mean, they told me you guys got engaged really fast, but..." He deliberately doesn't mention any of the _other_ things Stef had told him about Marco; he doesn't know if _Dante_ knows, and he's pretty sure _he_ isn't supposed to have this knowledge, anyway.

Dante huffs, and it sounds half-annoyed, half-amused. "If you consider gettin' engaged on the first date _'fast,'_ then I guess yeah, that's true."

Gabe blinks. "So, wait. You _really_ got engaged after just a _week?"_

He shrugs, lips tugging up into a little smirk, and he folds his hands in his lap. "That was kinda an accident," he says. "But, y'know. A happy accident."

Gabe, who definitely knows a thing or two about happy accidents, blinks. "You...? How do you _get engaged_ by accident?"

"What, you want our whole fuckin' love story?" Dante snorts.

"Well--"

"It's cool." He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "It's... _god_ , this is weird to talk about." He levels Gabe with a stare and points one finger at him. "I'm probably about to get real fuckin' sappy," he says. "An' if I hear _anyone_ sayin' I'm soft, I'll _know_ it's 'cause you went an' told your friends about this conversation. So _don't do it,_ got it?"

Gabe nods seriously, careful not to mention the fact that pretty much everyone who's ever seen him interact with Marco or with one of his friends already _knows_ he's soft. 

Well, except Stef, apparently.

"Okay. I will fuckin' hold you to that." Dante drops his hand into his lap. "I met Marco at a bar about a month after me an' my ex-fiancee had broken it off."

"Wait, you had a--?!"

"D'you want the story or not?!" Dante cuts him off, and Gabe snaps his mouth closed. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Just lemme talk, okay, it's not important." He waits a moment, and when Gabe doesn't say anything else, he continues, "So I'm just hangin' around this bar, an' I see this hot guy, right, an' I think, _what the hell,_ so I go up to him an' we talk. We really hit it off, exchange numbers, arrange to meet up next weekend for a date." He smiles a little.

"Next weekend comes around, this guy takes me on a fuckin' _moonlit picnic._ Doesn't tell me where we're goin', just tells me which way to turn an' all that shit--I almost thought he was takin' me out to the desert to _murder_ me or somethin', but _no,_ he just shows me this fuckin' spectacular view, lays a blanket over the hood of my car, the whole shebang. Romantic as hell, right?" Dante's eyes take on a faraway cast. "An' I'm just spendin' the whole time thinkin', 'what the hell, this guy's really puttin' so much effort in for _me?'_ An' we're just layin' back, watchin' the stars, an' this guy just looks over at me an' outta nowhere jus' asks me to marry him!"

"Wait-- _Marco_ proposed?!" from the way Stef had acted when they'd last spoken, Gabe had thought for sure that Dante had been the one to propose.

Dante's eyes snap back into focus, and he snorts, soft smile replaced with a smirk. "Yeah, I was shocked too, dude. So shocked I just fuckin' said yes without thinkin' about it."

"That's--"

"Stupid, yeah, I know." He shakes his head. "Look, I'm not sayin' _everyone_ should get engaged to the first guy who actually tries to romance 'em, okay?"

"That's-- no, I'm not saying it's _stupid."_ surprising and probably irresponsible, yes, but Gabe can't exactly claim to have never done a single irresponsible thing in his life. "I just... what made you stick with it? Why not backtrack later, break off the engagement? Go back to just dating?"

"I dunno, really." Dante looks down at his hand, starts fidgeting with his prosthetics. "I just... wanted to see how it turned out, y'know?"

Gabe thinks he understands that feeling. But still... "So... what about now?"

Dante looks up sharply. "What _about_ now?"

"Well, you're clearly still engaged to Marco, and I _know_ it's not just 'seeing how things turn out' anymore. So, when did things change?"

A mischievous glimmer shines in Dante's eyes. "You seriously wanna know the whole love story. Holy shit."

"So sue me," Gabe says, and then pauses. "Actually, don't. We barely stayed in the black this month and I have no idea how lawsuits work."

"Whatever." Dante rolls his eyes. "Look, like... I dunno how to talk about this shit! We were dating--engaged, I guess--for a couple months, an' it was kinda... weird." He frowns at Gabe. "Like, don't get me wrong, I fuckin' loved hangin' out with Marco. He's hilarious an' so fuckin' smart an' actually _encouraging._ It was a nice change'a pace, an' he made me happy, an' I did my best to support him back, but it was... weird. Couldn't wrap my head around the fact that this guy... hot as hell, an' so goddamn full of _love_ \--" Here he jabs his finger at Gabe again, "don't fuckin' repeat that to anyone, okay--that this guy was actually _into_ me, wanted to _marry_ me."

Gabe, who doesn't really plan on telling anyone about this conversation and honestly just wants _his questions to be answered,_ prompts, "So... is that when you realized you _actually_ wanted to marry him, or...?"

"No!" Dante says the word on a groan, smacking himself in the face with both hands. "Not exactly, I mean." He drops his hands back into his lap with a sigh. "One night, Marco came over to my place, an' we were just hangin' out, watchin' shitty sci-fi together, an' he just... started talkin'. Marco doesn't talk a lot, you know?"

Gabe nods.

"He doesn't fuckin' _monologue_ like this shit you're makin' me do. He talked even less when we first got together. But here he was, tellin' me about... himself, and his past, and how he felt about _me_ and what our fuckin'... _future_ could be like. An' it all just kinda _clicked,_ y'know. Like, it just _hit_ me that I loved the guy, that I actually _wanted_ to marry him. Quit _lookin'_ at me like that, dude, I'll kick your ass."

Gabe quickly schools his expression into something less sentimental (or tries to; he's _sure_ he doesn't quite succeed). "Sorry, it's just... that's really sweet. I'm glad you guys found each other."

"Yeah, yeah." Dante makes a big show of rolling his eyes, but Gabe can see that he's biting his lip to keep from smiling. "He makes me sappy, alright? I love Marco. I _like_ bein' his fiance, an' I'll be even happier when I'm his husband. I want him to be _happy."_ He pauses, and his eyes harden. "That's why I hate all this shit goin' on with Stef. If they don't shape up soon..." He sucks in a deep breath, looks like he's about to say something... but then he lets it out, deflates. "I dunno. Marco's not happy _not_ talkin' to them, but every time they _do_ talk anymore it just turns into a fight 'cause Stef can't accept that their _baby brother_ is a quarter of a century old an' perfectly capable of makin' his own decisions!" Another deep breath, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at it.

"Shit," he says, jumping up. "I've been here way too long, I gotta get home." He levels Gabe with a glare. "When Stef actually opens up an' starts talkin' to you again, ask 'em to stop smotherin' Marco so much, yeah?"

"I'll do my best," Gabe says, as honestly and seriously as he can.

"Thanks, Gabe." Dante smiles again, a quieter smile, but definitely there, definitely genuine. "Hope you both get stuff worked out."

"Thanks, Dante," Gabe says, as Dante steps out of his office. "See you later. Tell Marco hi for me."

Dante waves his hand once, and then disappears.

Gabe's not sure how long he sits there after Dante leaves, staring down at his own phone, darkened in his hand. But he knows one thing for sure:

If Stef's not going to talk to him, then he's going to have to go to them.

One way or another.

  
  


**Monday, May 4.**

Stef _knew_ they should have eaten their lunch in their classroom.

"Stef," Simon says, taking the seat to their left. "Wow, you do _not_ look any better than you did last week."

Stef levels him with the best glare they can muster up. "Can I _help_ you with something?" they ask, grabbing their lunch--a sad, soggy ham sandwich that had been sitting in the fridge over the weekend--and starting to slide out of their seat.

Unfortunately, another body bumps them back into it, and they turn their glare to none other than Manami, who's wearing the same look of concern as Simon. _Frick._

"What the heck is this?" they ask, pulling their elbows into their lap as their coworkers scoot closer, effectively boxing them in.

"This," says Manami, "is an intervention."

"You're not takin' care of yourself," Simon chimes in. "We don't like that. Ugh, Stef, you're not really gonna eat that, are you? The lettuce is turning _green_ around the edges."

"Lettuce is _supposed_ to be green," they say, instead of addressing the main point.

"Yeah, but iceberg's not supposed to get _that_ dark and--" Simon pokes at their sandwich before they can slap his hand away, "-- _slimy._ Stef, this is _garbage."_

"You don't see _me_ goin' around makin' fun of _your_ lunch, now do ya?!"

"You did last month," Simon says. "When I had that rutabaga nacho thing that Lola and Kai made me? You said it was--"

"I think we're getting off topic," Manami says. _Drat._ "Stef. We think you should take the rest of the week off."

Stef groans and moves to push their chair back, but it barely budges. The two of them must have their ankles hooked around the legs of it or something. Jerks. "I _told_ you. I don't need a break! I'm _fine!"_

"You need to take a break," Simon says, stern and so _freaking_ annoying. "You need to take care of your mental health."

"My mental health is _fine,"_ they snap, and lurch back hard enough that the chair topples backwards, ankles be damned. "Not that I expect either of _you_ to understand what I'm going through. Neither of _you_ have siblings!"

"No," Manami says, standing and planting herself between Stef and the exit. "But we have people we _care_ about. And Stef, that includes _you,_ whether you like it or not."

They grit their teeth. "If I tell you I'll stay home tomorrow, will that get you off my back?"

"Not unless you tell _me,_ " comes another voice from the door. Stef immediately straightens their shoulders and turns to face Principal Phoenix.

She's a very intimidating four-foot-eleven, with her long black hair pulled back from her pale face, her black blouse half-tucked into her black dress pants, the raven pendant with the blazing red gem-eyes she always wears glaring out at them from her chest. Her mouth, usually set in a teasing smile, is now a firm line, her thin brows drawn together. Stef swallows.

"Mx. Campbell," Principal Phoenix says, stepping toward them. Her shoes _tap. tap. tap._ across the floor in an even, controlled rhythm. "This school has several concessions in place for occasions such as family issues or mental health struggles. Why are you not making use of them?"

"Well, you see..." Stef struggles with how to word it. It's all well and good to be direct and rude with their coworkers, but if they want to keep their _job,_ they need to be much more careful about how they speak with the principal. "I don't need them. I'm perfectly fine, as I'm sure you can see."

Principal Phoenix's gaze shifts, no doubt taking in the toppled chair and soggy sandwich, as well as the two teachers still currently boxing them in. She arches one eyebrow, and her eyes meet Stef's again. "Stef," she says. "I cannot allow you to work when you're clearly struggling. Our teachers must be at their best, and you _cannot_ be at your best when you're feeling like this. Take the rest of the week off."

Stef's heart constricts in their chest, but they don't let it show, simply keep their eyes locked with hers. She stares back, her gaze intense. _Too_ intense. They look away. "...Fine," they murmur. "One week."

They hear Simon and Madhavi let out simultaneous sighs of relief from either side of them, and then Principal Phoenix says, _"Good._ You can finish out the rest of the day, and I will _not_ see you tomorrow. Rosana's already arranged a substitute for you tomorrow."

She'd known they'd cave under the pressure. _Heck,_ wait, how long had she planned this?! 

Stef nods and moves to scoop their lunch back up, but the principal stops them.

"For _fuck's_ sake, Stef, don't _eat_ that. Your boyfriend dropped off a perfectly good lunch this morning; it's in the fridge there."

It's only once everyone's finally left Stef alone that they allow themself to open the fridge and take out the styrofoam takeout box marked with their name. They open it up, guilt surging through them as they see a hamburger and fries, clearly Gabe's handiwork.

They haven't spoken to him or texted him at all since... well, since the last time they'd spoken to him, what? Two weeks ago?

_Has it been two weeks since Marco--?_

They sigh and close the lid. Gabe's still trying to look out for them, even though they've been completely ignoring him this whole time. Even though they've made no effort to reach out to him, even though they treated him so _terribly_ the last time they saw him, he's still doing his best to make sure Stef takes care of themself.

To make sure Stef eats.

It reminds them all too easily of _themself_ just a year ago, of bringing Marco food they knew he'd like, just to make sure he was eating, that he was _okay._ It's not the same, though, of _course_ it's not the same, Stef may be _upset_ right now, but they're not struggling the way Marco was, the way...

Their friends are only looking out for them. Simon, Manami, Shaw, _Gabe..._

Stef sits down. They eat the burger.

**Tuesday, May 5.  
**

> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** i know you're not answering your phone rn but everything's still good with marco. he's eating and showering and all that.
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** good morning firetruck! have a good day at work! 😘
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** georgie says she had a substitute at school today. is everything okay steffie?
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨**: please answer me this time.
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** yeah everything's goign good. i just took eht week off to just kinda chill an stuff.
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** !!! steffie baby!! i've never been so glad to get such a typo-ridden text in my life!! 
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** so your friends finally managed to convince you to take a break, hm?
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** i guess. idk thoug i dont like stayin home from work especially sinfce the apartyemt's so empty
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** are you doing anything tonight?
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** watchin star trek
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** well why don't you come watch star trek on MY shitty couch instead of YOUR shitty couch?? 
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** i get off at 6 tonight! i can grab pizza on my way home and we can hang out.
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** does that sound okay?
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** stef?
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** okay. i can do that.
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:**!!! then i'll meet you there!! 
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** thanks, shaw 
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** anytime, stef.

**Wednesday, May 6.**

The knock at the door surprises them, but Stef takes a deep breath and pushes themself up off the couch, unlocking the door and opening it just a crack.

"Hey, Stef!" says Simon, throwing his hands in the air. "Can we come in? We brought food!"

Stef blinks, unsure why Simon and Manami are standing outside their apartment on a school day... wait, it's Wednesday, isn't it? School's already out. It's been out for like an hour now. They shake their head, then nod, pulling the door open for them.

They're still feeling a little... _worse_ than they usually do, but after hanging out with Shaw last night, they actually _are_ feeling better. They'd even managed to straighten up the apartment a little bit this morning. Only the living room, really, but it's still nice to be able to use their coffee table without having stacks of cups and bowls sitting on top of it.

"How are you feeling today, Stef?" Manami asks, as she and Simon both set bags down on the table.

"Alright," Stef says. "I mean... not awful."

Simon beams at them, leaning down to wrap his arm around their shoulders "All _right!"_ he says excitedly. "That's the best news I've heard all week! Hey, so, Manami and I wanted to check on ya, and we weren't sure if you'd been doin' any grocery shopping, an' we didn't want you to be livin' off of, like, instant ramen or whatever. So we got you some tasty stuff!"

"We got you some pre-made meals and things that are easy to cook," Manami corrects. "Tasty is pretty subjective in this case. Oh--Rosana made some jam tarts last night, I brought you some of those, too." She rummages around in one of the plastic bags and pulls out a little plastic container. "Here you go!"

Stef takes the container, unsure of how to respond. Should they thank them? Should they refuse the gift and kick them out? Invite them to stay for a while? They... _ugh._ They don't know how they _feel_ about this. They're still _angry,_ still _sad,_ but they're also so...

Grateful.

They sniffle, forcing themself not to actually _tear up,_ that would be so freaking _embarrassing._ They lift their head and offer their coworkers--their _friends-_ -a smile.

"Thanks, guys," they say. "Thanks for... taking care of me."

"Of _course,_ Stef!" Simon says, and he moves his arm kind of weird, like he's not sure if he should offer them a hug or pat them on the shoulder or just _not._ Stef laughs, which _surprises_ them, and steps closer, bumping their shoulder against his arm so he gets the message. He wraps his arm around them again, holding them tight against his chest.

"If you need _anything,"_ he says quietly, "you can text me. Okay?"

"Okay." Stef swallows, then tugs away from him. "I-- do you guys... wanna stay? And, uh, eat? Something?" Gosh, their people skills are rusty already.

Manami smiles at them, reaching over to squeeze their shoulder. "Thanks," she says, "but I've got to get going, and Simon's my ride home. You can text me if you need anything, too."

"Okay." Stef sniffles again. "I-- yeah. Thanks, you two."

They say their goodbyes and exit the apartment, and Stef's alone with their thoughts yet again.

They turn the TV up louder and put the groceries away.

**Thursday, May 7.**

It's almost ten at night when Stef realizes they haven't texted Marco at all today.

In a panic, they grab their phone and swipe their thumb across the screen, messing up their pattern twice before finally unlocking it. They go straight to their messages with Marco, intent on sending him a message right away, but they pause, just staring at the screen for a long moment. It's a long column of messages sent _to_ Marco, and none from him in... weeks. They don't scroll up, just read through the most recent texts.

> **TO: baby bro:** are you taking care of yourself? remember to eat lunch, you always forget that one.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** good night. i love you.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** shaw says you're doign good. i wish you'd tell me yourself.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** *doing
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** good night.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** good morning!
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** good night, baby bro! i love you.

The last one was sent last night, at 9:56 PM. It's been over 24 hours since they last texted Marco. _Twenty-four hours!_ Anything could have happened in that time! He could have forgotten all his meals, he could be laying in bed, bad thoughts rattling around in his skull, he could be-- he could--!

_No._

Stef takes a deep breath, closes their eyes, and thinks about something else. They need to pay their rent tomorrow. There's an old sci-fi marathon this weekend. They're going over to Simon's tomorrow evening. They still have texts to reply to.

_Oh yeah._

They open their eyes again and look back at their phone, quickly swiping away from Marco's contact and back into their messages. Rosana asking if they liked the jam tarts. Simon confirming a time to meet up tomorrow. Gabe, who'd just sent them a gif of two kittens cuddling, with one of his little smiley faces with the pointy nose. 

Stef quickly averts their eyes from that one. They've _really_ messed up by ignoring Gabe, they _know_ they have, and they _also_ know they can't ignore him forever. But now is not the time to deal with that.

They quickly reply to Rosana and Simon, and then move on to the fourth unread message, from Shaw.

> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** steffie what's your opinion on strapping four inline skates to each foot to act as a single pair of roller skates? yay or nay?
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** never mind i already ordered the skates.
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** shaw you are foing to DIE one day
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** speak for yourself, i'm immortal and too pretty to die.
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** i don't care HOW many instagream fololower it gets you the improvised skate videos are fDANGEROUS
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** okay dom 🙄
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** WHAR DID YOUT CALL ME?????
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** dom. like a combo of dad and mom. p good right? 😘
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** you know darrn well im a switch.
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** i know too much about yuor sex life 😩
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** i know moere about YOURS and i HATE it
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** oh? jealous are we? 😘

Stef relaxes into the friendly banter and manages to keep Marco off their mind for the rest of the night. 

**Friday, May 8.**

Stef's only been to Simon's house a handful of times over the last few years. It's a small, single-story house with two bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, all that sort of thing. It's only a little bit bigger than Stef's apartment, and even more cluttered, with Simon's art projects and Madhavi's exercise equipment strewn all over, but even when there are six people sitting around the table, it doesn't feel crowded. 

It just feels nice.

" _Fuck_ you, that is _not_ a word!" Madhavi flicks a Scrabble tile at Simon, who smacks it away from his face with a laugh.

"No, no, it's a word! I promise!"

"Then what's it mean, huh?" she asks, arching an eyebrow at him. Lola giggles beside her, and Stef lets themself chuckle, too.

"I don't know!" Simon says exasperatedly. "I remember how it's spelled. Isn't that enough for you?"

"No," Madhavi says. "C'mon, you're a _teacher_ . Shouldn't you know what words _mean?_ "

"I'm a _second-grade_ teacher!" Simon exclaims. "I spend my days teachin' kids how to add an' subtract an' how to spell _goat!"_

"That's not how you spell goat," Kai, sitting to Stef's right, points at Simon's word on the Scrabble board. "That's uh..." He squints at it. "Ter.. .give...er... sate?"

"I wasn't _tryin'_ to spell goat, Kai!" Simon sighs. "It's _tergiversate._ Just, _ugh,_ just look it up! I'm right, it's _fine!"_

Stef pulls their phone out, carefully not looking at their unread messages, and diligently types in the word _"tergiversate."_ "Tergiversate," they read aloud, "Verb. 'Make conflicting or evasive statements; equivocate.'" They lower their phone. "It's a real word," they tell the table, amid Madhavi's groans and Simon's cheering. "Which means he gets 16 points, and Madhavi loses a turn."

Madhavi tosses another scrabble tile at Simon, who flicks it away, and it ends up bouncing off of Sam's shoulder.

"Oops, sorry, kid," Simon says to the quiet, scowling teenager seated between Kai and Lola. 

Sam doesn't say anything, just scoffs and slides the tile to Lola, who passes it back to Madhavi. Stef notices the kid glance at them, but when they smile at them, their scowl deepens and they turn away. Simon had told them that Sam was pretty standoffish and kinda rude, that they really only talked to Lola and Kai, their foster parents, and even _that_ was a rarity, but he'd also told them that Sam would go hide out in some other room, not sit silently at the table and _stare_ at Stef throughout the entirety of game night.

And Stef doesn't really get it. What's so interesting about _them_ that this kid would break from their usual habits and _watch_ them?

Stef turns back to the game; it's Lola's turn, and she just sticks a _T_ at the beginning of Kai's earlier _he_ to make _the._ Then it's Kai's turn, and Stef's, and Simon's again, and the game goes on for hours, blends one into the next, turns into Monopoly and then Yahtzee, full of jokes and laughter and arguments--arguments that are fun and silly, arguments that lead to _more_ jokes and laughter. 

Stef totally loses themself in the atmosphere, finds themself actually having _a good time_ for the _first_ time in weeks. They're having such a good time that they don't really want to leave, even as Lola, Kai, and a surprisingly reluctant Sam exit the house, even as Madhavi gives Simon a peck on the cheek as she heads to bed. And then it's just the two of them, just Stef and Simon, sitting at his dining room table with boxes of board games stacked in the center.

"Did you have fun?" Simon asks them, after a few moments of comfortable silence, and Stef laughs, a slow, quiet sound.

"I did," they say, leaning back and stretching their arms over their head until their back pops. "I had a lot of fun, actually. Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course, Stef!" Simon slings his arm over the back of Stef's chair, just behind their shoulders. "You're welcome anytime! You're my buddy!"

Their phone buzzes in their pocket, and they hesitate before pulling it out. It's a goodnight text from Gabe, and they sigh.

"What's up?" Simon asks, and they glance at him a moment, considering. Simon doesn't really know Gabe. The two of them have barely spent any time around each other, Stef's pretty sure. So it couldn't _hurt_ to talk to him about it. Right?

"It's Gabe," they say. "My boyfriend." Though they have to wonder if that's even what he _is_ at this point, seeing as Stef's been ghosting him for almost three weeks now. 

"I know who Gabe is," Simon says, with a teasing smile. He pauses, then says slowly, "I also know that you haven't been talking to him lately."

"And how do _you_ know that?!" Stef asks, clutching their phone to their chest. Simon rolls his eyes.

"Because he works out with Madhavi, _my partner,_ every Wednesday? Because my best friends Lola and Kai babysit his daughter? I have insider information, Stef." 

They sigh. "Right." If Gabe's mentioned it, though, enough that he's told Madhavi-- _and Lola, and Kai_ \--and _they_ have in turn mentioned it to _Simon,_ that must mean he's pretty upset about it, right? Their stomach tightens. "I'm a jerk," they say. "I should just--break it off, or--"

"Do you _want_ to break up with him?" Simon cuts them off. "Or do you just not know how to apologize?"

"I know how to apologize!" they say, but they're careful not to think too much about the fact that they _don't._ "I... really don't wanna break up with him, though."

"Then don't." Simon reaches over and pries the phone from Stef's hands, sets it on the table in front of them. "Gabe's worried about you. Talk to him. Apologize. Maybe meet up soon." His smile widens, his head tilting to the side. "It'll work out. Promise."

Stef doesn't reply. But they pick their phone back up and unlock it, staring at Gabe's message for a moment. "Okay," they say. "Okay, yeah. I'll try. ...Thanks, Simon." They bump their shoulder against his, and he laughs, tugs them in for a side hug.

"Anytime, buddy. Now, it's late. You should get home."

\-----

> **TO: gabe babe:** good night gabe. sleep well. can i call you in the morning? we need to talk.
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** nothing bad i promise i just wnana apologize andd stuff!
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** and thanks for looking out for me. it means a lot.
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** :-D Of course Stef! You sleep well too. Call any time!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Ggood night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite! ;-D
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** dork ❤️

**Saturday, May 9.**

He's later than he'd meant to be, but he's here, and he shifts the bag to his left arm as he raises the right to knock.

"Coming!" calls the voice from inside, and Gabe's not sure if he should reply, or stay silent, or step away from the door, or _open_ the door, or--

There's a rattling sound, and then the door opens inward, and Stef's face comes into view. Soft red hair with dark brown roots, messier than usual. Pale skin dotted with freckles, light bruise-colored semi-circles under their hazel eyes. Their lips look chapped, but they're turned up into a little, sheepish smile. _Stef._

"Uh, hey," he says, hoping he doesn't look or sound as nervous as he _is._ "I, uh. Hi."

They tuck a lock of hair behind their ear and roll their eyes. It's playful, not mean, and it's the Stef he _knows,_ not the Stef coldly telling him to get out of their apartment. "Are you gonna come in," they ask, "or just stand there like a doofus?"

"Oh, uh." Gabe shakes his head and steps inside, Stef closing the door behind him. It's quiet in their apartment; the TV's turned off, and there's no music or anything else playing. Just _them._

He turns back toward them, trying to figure out what to say--what _does_ one say, in a situation like this, where one person's half-apologized with promises of more, and the other person just wants to make sure they know he forgives them?--but Stef's lifting up both hands, gesturing him toward the couch.

"Sit down, sit down, ah, do you want somethin' to drink? Or--what's in the bag, is it--does it need to be in the fridge, or--?

Gabe lets out a little laugh, settling himself on one end of the couch and setting the bag at his feet. "Don't worry about it," he says. It's things that he's hoping will help Stef relax, but he doesn't want to show them to them yet, wants to _talk_ to them before making any suggestions. Their phone conversation this morning had mostly consisted of Stef apologizing, and Gabe trying to reassure them, and then him asking if he could stop by later. It wasn't terribly enlightening, but then, Gabe's pretty sure he got _most_ of the story last month, anyway.

Stef lowers themself down onto the other end of the couch. There's a wide empty space between them, a gap that Gabe believes they'll close this evening.

"I wanna apologize again," they say, "for not answerin' your texts, for not talkin' to you, for not-- _thanking_ you for--"

"Stef," he cuts them off, having already heard all of this. "I _forgive_ you. You were going through a rough time-- _are_ going through a rough time. Shaw said you weren't talking to aer, either. Madhavi said you were avoiding Simon, too. I'm not _mad_ at you."

"I _know,"_ they say, sighing. They shift slightly, bringing their knee up onto the sofa cushion so they're facing him more. "I just, I've been so--I've been such a _jerk,_ and... you deserve better than that."

"I do," Gabe says. "Look, I obviously didn't _enjoy_ being ignored by my datemate for three weeks. I don't want it to happen again."

"It won't," Stef interrupts, eyes widening, shoulders tightening. "Gabe, I--it _won't_ happen again, I'm sorry, I--"

_"Stef,"_ he says, as firmly yet gently as he can. "It's _okay._ I believe you. I just want to know you're okay, you know?" He leans a little closer, stretching his hand out so it rests on the cushion between them, palm up. "It's okay if you need time to yourself. Just please don't _isolate_ yourself from everyone. Tell us what's wrong, let people _help_ you."

They stare at his hand for a long, drawn-out moment, and then they sigh again, their shoulders sagging. "Yeah," they breathe. "I... I don't know. I handled everything wrong. I just--I freaked out. Marco... he's basically my whole _life,_ you know? I spent the last _decade_ taking care of him. I..." They trail off, and then, tentatively, reach out and take his hand. He squeezes theirs, firmly yet gently, and smiles at them.

Stef clearly has some problems they need to work through, and Gabe wants to help them. 

He releases their hand and scoots closer to them, bending over to reach into the bag at his feet. He pulls out a few items and stacks them on the coffee table in front of him. "Tea," he tells them. "I brought lavender, peppermint, and chamomile." He sets a CD on top of the stack of tea. "Nature sounds," he says. "Very relaxing, I listen to this after a stressful day at the diner. Uh. Stress ball." He sets that one next to the stack, but it rolls away and onto the floor. "Shit. Where'd it--"

"Gabe," Stef says. "What _is_ all this?"

Gabe, now crouching on the floor with arm under the sofa, looks up. "Hm? Uh, just stuff to help you relax." His fingers brush against the soft surface of the stress ball, and he closes his hand around it. "Got it." He sits up, plopping the stress ball back down, and slides back onto the couch. "You definitely need some help relaxing. Oh, I--here."

He pulls the last thing out of the bag and hands it to Stef, who tentatively takes it. 

"Bubblebath?" they ask. "Gabe, I'm an _adult,_ I haven't taken a bubblebath since I was a _kid,_ I--"

"What?! No _wonder_ you're so stressed." He stands up again. "Come on, let's go draw one right now."

"I--Gabe. Are you serious?" They're looking up at him, eyebrows pulled tight together. 

"Stef," he says. "Do you have anything else you need to do today?"

"No. It's the weekend."

"And how are you feeling? Still kind of upset?"

They sigh. "Yeah."

"Then come on. Let's go take a bath." He holds his hand out to them, and they take it, but they pause again.

"Let's?" they repeat. "Wait, Gabe. You wanna take a _bath_ together?!"

"Why not?" he asks, and their eyes widen. "I mean," he hastily adds, "we don't _have_ to, if you don't want to. I just. I think a bath would be really nice, for you, and uh. I haven't seen you in three weeks. I've missed you." It's _his_ turn to smile sheepishly at them.

"Gabe," Stef asks, blinking. "Are you trying to _seduce_ me into _bathtub sex?"_

"What?!" The word comes out higher and sharper than he means it to. " _No._ I just wanna... Hold you. Talk. Take a _bath_ together."

Stef's quiet a moment longer, and then they _laugh,_ and they stand, keeping their hand in his. "Okay, okay," they say, biting their lip and obviously holding back a grin. "If you're gonna be so _insistent._ Let's go."

Stef's bathtub is a little bit bigger than the one in Gabe's house, which is good because he barely fits into _that_ one, and he can't imagine trying to squeeze two people of about the same height in there. He's much bulkier than Stef is (Stef is basically a twig; just about anyone is bulkier than they are, and Gabe's got enough muscles and fat on him that he's basically two of Stef).

Gabe pours the soap into the water, continually testing the temperature and adding more cold or more hot as the situation calls for it. He can hear Stef getting undressed behind him, the tapping of bare feet on linoleum, the soft sliding of fabric against skin. 

When the bath is ready, the water warm and the tub filled with soft fluffy peaks of bubbles, he straightens up and turns toward Stef, who's depositing the last of their clothes into a pile on the floor. Gabe grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it over his head, tossing it down beside theirs just as they meet his eyes. They arch an eyebrow at him, lips tugging up into a slight smirk, but they don't say anything.

He quickly finishes undressing, then turns and gets into the tub. The water's hot, but not too hot that it burns his skin, and he settles down beneath the bubbles, managing to stretch his legs out in front of him enough that the bottoms of his feet touch the other end without him having to bend his knees too much. He looks back up at Stef, still standing where he'd left them, and beckons them over.

"Come on," he says. "Before it gets cold."

Stef steps closer, peering skeptically into the bath. "I've literally never taken a bath with someone before," they say. "Where the _heck_ are your legs and how do I avoid steppin' on 'em?"

Gabe laughs, surprised. "Never?" he asks, then shakes his head and holds out his hand. "C'mere, just--step in the middle of the tub, okay, I'll make sure you don't kill both of us."

"Thanks," Stef says dryly, and they take his hand, gingerly stepping into the tub. They wobble slightly, but they manage to get settled in the tub, laying back against Gabe's torso with one of his legs on either side of them.

"How's the water?" Gabe asks, letting his arms float in the small amount of space between their bodies and the sides of the tub.

"Nice," Stef says. They aren't quite relaxed against him, their shoulders tense and their back stiff, and he _wants_ them to relax, wants them to feel _good,_ but he still doesn't know how, not after the long weeks of silence. Doesn't know where the line is drawn right now. 

"It's..." Stef lifts one hand, picking up a pile of bubbles. They laugh suddenly, high and sharp, and twist their body to look over their shoulder at him. "It's nice," they say, and flick the bubbles at him.

He laughs, too, spitting soap out of his mouth. _"Gross,"_ he says. "That is _not_ the proper use of bathtime bubbles."

_"Bathtime bubbles,"_ Stef repeats in a teasing tone. "That's cute."

_"You're_ cute," he says, and their expression softens. They tuck their hair behind their ear and turn back around, lean against him more, their spine relaxing.

"I'm sorry," they say, and Gabe sighs without meaning to, opens his mouth to tell them _it's alright,_ but they continue. "Sorry that you had to... see me like that."

"See you like what?" he asks, confused. His free-floating hand comes into contact with their stomach, and when they don't protest or flinch away, he tentatively slides his hand over their skin, wrapping his arm around them.

"Like... _that,"_ Stef says. "When you came over to check on me, and I... was ranting, and crying, and just making a fool outta myself, and then I..." they trail off, not moving, just staring at the bubbles in front of them. "I just. That's not what you signed up for when you agreed to be my boyfriend. And I'm sorry."

Wait. What? "Stef, are you upset that... _I_ saw you when you were upset?" 

They don't say anything, but they nod slowly. 

He lifts the hand not wrapped around them and touches their hair, strokes the back of their head from the top to the nape of their neck. "Everyone gets upset," he says. "I wish you'd handled the aftermath better, but that's just something to keep in mind for next time."

He continues stroking their hair, even as they exclaim, "But that--! I was a _mess,_ why would you-- why would you want to _deal_ with that?!"

_That wasn't very fun and sexy of me,_ Stef had said that day in the park, moments after calming down from what looked like the beginning of a _panic attack._ Gabe moves both his hands, gripping Stef's shoulders, and he leans forward until his forehead touches the back of their head. "Stef," he says, quietly and carefully and _firmly,_ "I didn't _'sign up'_ to be your boyfriend because I just wanted the fun times, the movies and the dates and the sex and--and whatever else. I want to experience life with you, I want to _be there_ for you when you're going through tough times. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide parts of yourself from me, just because you think they're... _bad._ I want to fall in love with _you,_ not just some... shallow, surface-level version of you."

Stef sucks in a breath, a stuttering sound, and they lean forward, pulling out of his grip. He lets them go, watches the bubbles shift and stick to Stef's back and melt into the water around them. He doesn't move, doesn't touch them again, waits until he knows what they want, what they're doing.

They sit up again, some undefined amount of time later, somewhere between a few seconds and a few hours but not long enough for the water to grow cold, the bubbles to disappear. They lay back against him, pushing back and tilting their head so he can see their face, freckled cheeks pink and damp, the whites of their eyes tinged with red, making their eyes appear greener. 

"It shouldn't be hard to believe," they say, voice thick. They clear their throat. "I just..." They close their eyes, bite their lip, open their eyes again. "I'm _supposed_ to be fun and cheerful all the time with my friends and my datemates, right? And at work, I'm supposed to be fun and professional. With-- when Marco was here, when I took care of him, I was supposed to be this... this _window_ to how great life could be, how happy he'd be one day if he worked toward it, and I just... I can't show anything negative in any of those situations!" They lift their hands from the water, press them over their eyes. "Freakin'... _ugh."_ They raise one soapy hand up, toward Gabe, and he catches it, laces their fingers together. "Shaw's the only one I've _let_ myself be upset around since I was frickin' _eighteen._ Any other time, any other _person,_ it was an accident, and I... I don't talk to any of those people anymore."

Gabe strokes his thumb over theirs, keeping his eyes on Stef. "That sounds exhausting," he says truthfully, and Stef's eyes snap to his again. "Keeping things bottled up like that, all the time. It's..." he shakes his head. "I have problems letting people know when I'm tired, when I need a break," he tells them. "Damien helped keep me in check when I lived with him. Now that I live here, Shaw and Cole, Madhavi, even _Georgie_ bully me into sitting my ass down and taking a break." He brings their joined hands up to his face, presses a quick kiss to their knuckles. "I want to help you when you're upset. I don't want you to have to hide it from me all the time. You don't have to tell me everything, but I just want you to know... it's perfectly okay to cry in front of me. To _have_ emotions beyond just being cheerful, or whatever. You can talk to me if you need it, or you can just cry on my shoulder. Or we can take a bath together." He smiles at them, at their wide-eyed stare. "It's okay, Stef. _You're_ okay."

They stay in the bath until long after the water's grown cool, long after the bubbles have melted into a murky mess. When they finally get out, they're wrinkly, wobbly messes themselves, but they're laughing, they're smiling, they _understand._

Things are back on track.

**Monday, May 11.**

Stef can't help but feel a little weird being back at school after the week they've had. Everything feels just slightly off, but not necessarily in a _bad_ way. 

The kids eagerly welcome them back, some of them (namely Georgie, Sarah, and Ava) even give them _welcome-back_ hugs. Stef gets a little misty about it, but mercifully they don't actually burst into tears at the warm reception.

The substitute didn't do a _great_ job of keeping the kids on track with their learning, but Stef had built a little wiggle room into their year-long schedule last summer, so they're confident they can get back to it quick enough.

The teacher's lounge is empty when they step inside for lunch, this time to snag the fresh (well, it was fresh this morning when they picked it up) cobb salad Gabe had made them, heading back to their classroom to eat it. _Gah,_ they hope they never have to go back to supermarket deli food.

Simon comes in halfway through Stef's lunch and just grins at them for the doorway for a few long seconds while they chew their lettuce at him. Then he waves and turns right back around, presumably to get his own lunch. He's proud of them, they know. _Ugh!_ He's their _friend_ and full of great advice....

When had Stef actually collected so many friends? 

They carry their leftovers back to the fridge, and it's while they're on their way back to their classroom again that they cross paths with Mr. Korse himself.

"Campbell," he says, stopping in the middle of the hall. He's got a stack of several piles of paper-clipped papers in his arm, so he's probably off to go staple together homework packets for the week. _Shoot,_ Stef still needs to do that!

"Korse," they reply curtly, moving to sidestep him and continue on their journey, but they stop when Korse speaks again.

"You're... looking well."

Stef blinks at him. What? No _insult,_ no _backhanded compliment_ or _weird humble brag?_ "Uh," they say. "Yeah. I'm doin' good. Thanks."

They stare at Korse. Korse stares at them. Neither of them seem to know what they're supposed to do next.

Then Korse clears his throat, shuffles his feet. "Well," he says. "I have to get to the prep room before the third-grade teachers commandeer all the staplers again. ...Have an excellent afternoon." 

Stef stares after him as he dodges around them and marches, almost _awkwardly,_ into the prep room. What on _earth_ ...? Even _Korse_ had been worried about them?! They don't want to consider the implications of that.

Still, they're in a decidedly good mood the rest of the day.

  
  


**Wednesday, May 13.**

Gabe's running late this morning, so Madhavi's already halfway through her workout routine by the time he gets there. It's a shame, because that means _he'll_ have to do half of his routine alone, but at least they'll still get to talk a bit before she leaves.

"Hey," Madhavi grunts, settling her bar into the slots with the help of her spotter (some random guy they see around the gym a lot; he must have been the first person available to help her out, since Gabe wasn't here to spot her). "Thought you'd never show up. I hear you an' that datemate'a yours got shit figured out, huh?"

"Hey Madhavi," he greets, setting his bag aside and immediately launching into his warm-up stretches. "Yeah, I think so! Thanks to Simon and Shaw and, uh, Manami." Stef had told him about everyone doing their best to help them, and Gabe's glad they were able to push through Stef's self-imposed isolation and help them, even though he's _also_ feeling a little guilty for not doing much of that, himself. 

She hums an acknowledgement, sitting up and reaching for her nearby water bottle. "That mean they're comin' to your birthday shindig?" 

"I'm not having a _birthday shindig,_ " he reminds her. "I don't have time to plan out that kinda thing. It's just gonna be me and Georgie, probably going out to eat something that _I_ don't have to cook." Though, honestly, it might be nice to invite Stef out with them....

Madhavi hums again, sounding less than convinced. "Like that staff'a yours is gonna let your damn _birthday_ pass without doin' _somethin'._ I only know 'em from what I hear from you an' Lola an' that kid'a yours, but somehow I _seriously_ doubt you're not gonna have a birthday shindig."

He rolls his eyes. "I _told_ them not to," he says. "They don't need to go through the trouble!"

"Uh huh." She rolls her eyes right back. "You know for a damn _fact_ that Shaw is gonna band everyone together to throw you a surprise party, an' if that datemate'a yours is feelin' better like they seem to be, ae's gonna invite _them_ too. Hell, maybe ae'll rope Lola an' Kai into it, an' I'll show up too!" She winks as she takes a quick swig of water. "Guess I'll end up seein' ya before next week, huh?"

He sighs as he finishes stretching and heads over to pick up his first set of weights. He has a feeling that she's right, and he isn't sure whether or not he wants her to be.

\-----

"Sorry, kiddos, might take me a little longer to set the scene today, since I missed out on last week," Stef says, shuffling through their notes as the six members of their little club settle into their seats. "Speaking of, what did you do last week, since the sub took over the club?"

"It was _awful,"_ Ava exclaims. "Mr. Nichols made us do _math_ during club!"

"Yeah!" Chess pipes up. "He told us D an' D was basic'ly just math with stories, so he gave us _worksheets!"_

_"Worksheets!"_ Arnie repeats, louder and with more emphasis. "Mx. Campbell, _promise_ you'll be here every Wednesday for the rest of the year. The substitute teacher did not know what he was doing _at all."_

Sarah nods vigorously. " _And_ he said cactus beasts are _silly._ Mx. Campbell, if you ever leave us with a substitute for club again, _please_ leave instructions for Georgie to be the game master. I think it would be much more fun and less _horrible."_

"I totally wanna be the game master!" Georgie bounces in her seat. "I have a _lot_ of ideas for stories we could play!"

Stef, who's finally located the page they were looking for, hums. "Actually," they say, "I think that's a great idea."

The kids all turn their eyes toward them as one, and before any of them can say anything, Stef continues,

"You've been at this for a few months now, and there's only a couple of months left of the school year. I'd love for you guys to try out running a short game, if you want to."

The kids look at each other. Sarah shakes her head slightly, and Benson bites his lip, not looking too sold on the idea, but the other four look intrigued. Good. 

Stef grins at them and pulls out a paper-clipped bundle of papers, passing one to each of them. "This is an outline," they say, "to help you plan out a game. No one has to plan out a game, but if any of you want to, go ahead and fill this in and bring it to me when you're done so I can check it over and get you set up. Okay?"

Georgie lifts her face from studying the paper in front of her and meets Stef's gaze, her own eyes shining. "Mx. Campbell," she says very seriously, "I have _so_ many ideas!"

"Good," they tell her, grinning. "Then you should start planning out a game tonight. But for _now."_ They wave the paper they'd been looking for. "Let's get back to _this_ game!"

The kids eagerly do so, jumping right back into the story of their raising and protecting the cactus beasts under their care. 

Stef freaking _loves_ kids.

It's good to be back.

**Saturday, May 16.**

> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** happy biterday to theb CUTEST persong alive!!!!!!
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Biter Day...
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** shut UP i taype fvery fast and do not care about gerammer and dspellign OKAY!!!
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** I know. I just like teasing you. ;-*
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Anyway, thank you! I'm finally the same age as you. Now we're BOTH geriatric!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨** : WE ARE 28 YEASD OLE THAT';S NOTE GERIATERIC YOU GHEATHEN!!!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** anywya what sare yourt pland todayyyyyyy besides getting dinenr with your datuhgt and your coll as heck datemaaaaaate
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** I'm working. That's literally it.
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** ohohoho? 👀 is thtat what you thtinhk?
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** ...
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Stef if I step into my kitchen and my employees jump out at me and yell happy birthday I'm holding you accountable.
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** 😜

Gabe pockets his phone and sighs, standing in front of the entrance to the kitchen. He can't hear the usual clamor of a kitchen preparing for the day, but he can hear _movements._ Someone's definitely doing something. He reaches up and opens the door, stepping inside to find a brightly-lit kitchen containing far more than the two or three employees he's expected to see.

**_"Happy birthday!"_** the crowd shouts, and Gabe laughs despite himself.

"Thanks," he says, forcing himself to sound more exasperated than he actually is. "I see you guys took my 'don't throw a party for me' to heart."

Shaw laughs, skating forward to toss a pink feather boa over the back of his neck and tug him down to kiss his cheek. "As though we'd let your birthday go by _without_ a celebration!" Ae pats his other cheek, then releases him. "Besides, we didn't decorate or _anything!_ So it can _hardly_ be considered a party. It's just a gathering of friends here to say hi before you get to work for the day!"

"Uh huh." Gabe looks around at everyone, standing around and grinning at him. There's Shaw, of course. Ae had no doubt orchestrated the whole thing. Cole and Himari are here, Bunny's chatting with Lola and Georgie (who had both _supposedly_ left for the former's house about fifteen minutes ago) off to one side, even _Taiki_ is here, though he's standing apart from the crowd and seems to actually be doing _work._ Kai and Simon are standing near Lola, but despite her warning a few days earlier, Madhavi's nowhere to be seen. 

And, of course, there's Stef, standing almost _awkwardly_ next to the center island, a colorful box clutched in their hands. When he catches their eye, though, they smile at him, and wave. He waves back, then steps over to them. 

"Why hello," he says. "Wasn't expecting to see you here at not-quite-six in the morning. Were you trying to be sneaky with those texts a few minutes ago?"

Stef giggles. It's _adorable._ "No!" they say. "Not really! Gah, this was fun, though."

"Standing in my kitchen with my employees and friends?"

"Hanging out with everyone, waiting for you."

He grins again, wraps his arm around their shoulders. "I can't believe you guys did this," he says, loudly enough that everyone can hear him. "I'm too old for surprise parties!"

"You may be ancient!" Georgie pipes up, clearly fighting back giggles, "but _nobody_ is too old for _surprise parties,_ daddy!"

"Also," Shaw says, "this is _most definitely not_ a party!"

He laughs again, and, tugging Stef along with him, moves around the room to say hi to everyone and thank them for the birthday wishes (and a few gifts he promises to open later), before all but his staff (those who are actually scheduled to work this morning) and Stef are left.

Gabe takes them down the hall to his office, where he has Stef sit in one chair and drags his office chair around the desk to sit facing them, their knees touching.

"Sorry if you _actually_ didn't want a celebration," Stef says. "But Shaw invited me, and I don't have anything else to do until tonight, so..." they shrug, and then make a tiny _oh_ sound and hand the colorful box to him. "Happy birthday," they say. "Saw this and _instantly_ thought of you."

Gabe takes the box. It's clearly a garment box, and light enough that he's sure there's actually just a single article of clothing or something like it inside, wrapped neatly in rainbow-colored paper. "No, I don't have anything against celebrations," he says, sliding his finger across the paper until he finds a seam and carefully tugging it open. "I just didn't really want anyone to go out of their way for me."

"That's stupid," Stef says. "We wanna spend time with you, especially for things like your _birthday!"_

Gabe catches their eye and crooks an eyebrow at them. Their face reddens. 

"Oh, shut _up!"_ they exclaim. "I can ignore my friends' attempts to help me out and still scold you for doing something similar! And anyway, I'm trying _very_ hard to _not_ do that again, so _there!"_ They stick their tongue out at him, and he leans in quick to give them a kiss, making them giggle again. It's _cute!_

"You're cute," he tells them, and finally gets the paper off the box. He opens the box itself, revealing...

"Oh!" Gabe pulls out a yellow button-up with a pattern of little red and green peppers all over it. "Stef! I _love_ this!" He holds it up so he can see the whole thing. It is _very_ much his style.

"Good," they say, peering around the shirt at him. "I figured, hey, the guy likes quirky shirts, let's get him a quirky shirt! An' then I saw _this,_ and like, it's _perfect_ for you. 'Cause, you know. You're hot stuff. So. Peppers."

Gabe lowers the shirt back into the box, and he knows he's _beaming._ "You're the best," he tells them. _"Thank_ you."

"A'course," they say, a little awkwardly. "I mean, I can't really cook or make anything like _you_ can, so--"

"That doesn't matter," he says, because they sound way too close to self-deprecating for his liking, "I love the shirt, Stef. It's a great gift. I'll wear it tonight!"

"Promise?" they ask, and he nods, tapping his knee against theirs. 

"So how're you doing?" Gabe asks after a few quiet moments pass. He doesn't ask whether they've been in touch with Marco yet, because he knows from Shaw that Marco still hasn't been wanting to talk to them, and he doesn't want to bring it up and upset them like that.

"Pretty good," Stef says, and bites their lip. "Better, I mean. It's tough staying in the apartment by myself. I, uh, I think I'm gonna swing by Dante's place and... visit Marco."

_Yikes._ That does _not_ sound like a good idea. "Are you sure?" he asks. "I mean, if... if you and he are still..."

"I'll be careful," Stef tells him. "And I won't... _insult_ Dante again. Not out _loud,_ to his _face._ I just... he's not answering my texts, and Shaw says he _misses_ me, so..." They sigh, and shake their head. "I won't do anything crazy," they say. "I _promise."_

"I still don't think it's a good idea," he tells them. "But... if _you_ think it's for the best... Maybe take Shaw with you? As a mediator."

"...Maybe, yeah. That's not a bad idea, Gabe." They sigh again, leaning forward, and he does as well, their foreheads resting against each other.

"I've gotta get to work," he says after a few minutes, reluctantly straightening up. "Shaw's off at one today. You gonna be okay until then?"

"Yeah. I'll probably stay here for breakfast, maybe go bug Simon after that. Or make Manami and Rosana play hostess for me." They grin at him. "Thanks, Gabe. Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday," he says in return, doing his best to make the phrase sound heartfelt before realizing that it is not, in fact, _Stef's_ birthday today. His face heats up. "I mean, uh, thanks! Thank you! Uh!"

Stef laughs at him for _way_ longer than necessary, but he doesn't mind at all.

**Friday, May 22.**

Okay, so maybe this _wasn't_ Stef's best idea. Maybe they _should_ have brought Shaw along, or let Gabe or Shaw or Simon or Manami talk them out of it. But they didn't! No, they came here alone, driving straight here after school, determined to talk to Marco and get _through_ to him, somehow. Of course, their stomach is all twisted up in knots, too. What if he refuses to speak to them again? What will they do? 

How will they _handle_ that a second time?

They shake their head, tightening their grip on the steering wheel and staring out the window at _Dante's_ house. They'd parked on the street a few houses down about ten minutes ago, and now they're psyching themself up to go knock on the door and _demand_ to speak to their baby brother. 

Ugh. What do they _say?_ What do they say after a month of _nothing_ between them? They've never gone this long without talking, without _seeing_ each other. They've rarely gone a _week_ without being in the same house as Marco, and those few times were _awful._

They just... they don't know what to _say,_ how to _act._ How can they fix this?

Whatever. They just... they need to _try._

Stef sucks in a deep breath and then opens the door, climbing out and making their way down the sidewalk toward _Dante's_ house. _Ugh._ It's a fairly small house, nothing fancy, with an overgrown lawn in the front yard and a bunch of car parts or _whatever_ strewn about. Stef doesn't know anything about car components and they don't _want_ to know anything about car components. They just know that the yard looks junky with all of them laying around near the driveway. Not that they'd expect anything _better_ from _him;_ it's just another point against him as far as Stef's concerned.

Their heart is beating in their chest as they make their way up the driveway and climb the wooden steps up to the porch. Their weight makes the third step _cre-e-eeeak_ under their feet and their pulse quickens all the more. _Frick,_ they shouldn't be feeling like this! They have to be calm. If they're _not_ calm, it's just gonna make everything _worse!_

Now they're standing in front of the door. There's a doormat, slightly worn and streaked with dirt and who _knows_ what else, lying crooked in front of it. Instead of _"Welcome!"_ or whatever, the darn thing actually reads _"WELCOME MOTHER FUCKER."_ _Ugh!_ Definitely Dante's house, that... that _absolutely vile little cretin._

They take a deep breath and lift their hand to knock, but the sudden sound of voices from within makes them pause, their fist clenched and held mere inches from the door.

"You've got _way_ more pics than I do." Dante's voice, gravelly and _horrible_ , even as muffled as it is by the wall between them _._ Just _hearing_ him makes Stef's blood run cold, but no, they're not here for him, they're not here to talk _to_ him or _about_ him. They're here for Marco.

"Used to get a lotta likes. Y'know, when I posted regularly. I look good on camera. Prob'ly coulda been a model in another life." _Marco's_ voice, warm and low and happy and familiar and yet somehow also _foreign._ The sound of his voice sends a warm wave of _relief_ washing over Stef, followed closely by dread, and their fist clenches tighter, drops to their side. What do they _say_ to him?

"Could be a model now, if ya wanted," Dante says. It sounds like the two of them are seated somewhere against the wall near the door, somewhere off to the left. Without really thinking about it, Stef moves away from the door, stepping quietly across the porch until they find the spot that's easiest to hear them from.

"Nah," they hear Marco reply. "Too much work, too many eyes on me. Rather be coding behind a screen than posing for everyone to look at."

Dante hums an acknowledgement, and then they both fall quiet. Stef strains their ears, trying to work out if they've moved away from the spot or if they're still there.

A few quiet moments later, and Dante speaks up again. "Whoa, shit. I knew you used to have more piercings than ya do now, but _damn,_ Marco, you were decked the fuck _out!"_

"Yeah." Marco's reply, so quiet Stef can barely hear him though the wall. "Had more ya can't see in those pics. Under my clothes, ya know?"

Stef knows. They remember Marco getting his ears pierced after he'd moved in with them, remember the dozens of other piercings, how much _better_ he'd seemed for a couple of days after each new piercing. They remember _encouraging_ him to get more, not knowing the full story.

"Why'd ya take 'em out?" they hear Dante ask.

"They were... bad for my mental health," Marco replies, and Stef's breath catches. He sounds so _vulnerable._ They need to be there for him, they need to _help_ him, they need--

"Oh," Dante replies, his voice _soft._ "D'you wanna talk about it? Or should I change the subject?"

"Nah, it's okay. I can talk about it." There's a pause, and then Marco continues, "They were a coping mechanism, I guess. Not a great one, but not as bad as... _you know._ "

"Yeah."

"Yeah. It just... it was a rush, y'know? Always felt good for a few days with a new piercing. Had more energy, an' all that. The feelin' faded after a while, so every few weeks, if I had the cash an' the energy, I'd go out an' get another one done. Ears, eyebrows, lips, nose, tongue, nipples, uh... other places." There's a pause. "Yeah, just about anything you can think of, I got it done."

Stef had been with Marco during all of this, had _gone_ to some of these appointments with him, held his hand through the whole thing. Hearing him talk about it, sum up the whole experience in less than a minute, it's... weird. 

"So, if they helped you, why'd ya stop?"

"It wasn't all good. I mean, like I said, the feelin' faded pretty quick. I wasn't great at takin' care of 'em all, either, 'specially if I got a bunch'a complicated ones within a couple weeks of each other. Didn't have the energy, y'know?" There's a pause. "An', I mean, I wasn't _just_ after the good feelings, the _rush._ The piercings, y'know, they _hurt._ Gettin' 'em, an' then the sore period after. Sometimes, I felt like I... y'know. Deserved pain. Gettin' a piercing was easier to explain than anything else I thought about doin'. Easier to deal with, too. Didn't have to think about what was goin' on in my brain, y'know?"

Stef's standing frozen on the porch, their hand splayed out against the rough wood of the whitewashed wall in front of them. Stef had never heard this before. Never known that the piercings had been... _self harm._ They'd known that the help they'd given to Marco was short-lived, known about his apathy when it came to caring for the piercings. But they hadn't known he was _after_ pain. That just makes it worse! Why hadn't they known about this? Why hadn't they stopped him from getting _any_ of those piercings?!

They aren't sure how much time passes between Marco's words and Dante's, but it feels like an eternity before they hear the latter say,

"Thanks for tellin' me. Wish you never had to deal with any'a that shit. _Tomato!_ Get down, can't you tell we're havin' a moment, ya damn cat.... Ugh, fuck, okay, you can stay, but _only_ 'cause your dad needs help calmin' down or whatever."

"Hey, Tomato." Marco's voice sounds a little thicker, now. "I'm okay, kitty. You know, gettin' Tomato was one of the things that really helped me start recoverin', helped me get my ass movin' to therapy."

"Yeah? Tell me about it. What kinda magic's this fuzzy bastard got powerin' that motor'a his?"

And then Marco _laughs,_ a wet laugh that only comes with the addition of tears, but it's a _happy_ laugh, a loud, _deep_ laugh, something Stef's only heard a handful of times in an entire _decade._

And _Dante_ did that. Dante made Marco laugh like _that,_ lent him a sympathetic ear, offered him the option to drop the subject....

Dante did that. _Dante_ did all of _that_. For _Marco._

Stef doesn't remember leaving the porch, doesn't remember dodging around an engine block or whatever the heck it was, doesn't remember walking down the sidewalk and climbing back into their car, but they must have done _all_ of that, because suddenly they're seated in the driver's seat again, hands gripping the steering wheel, staring out the windshield.

Dante's a bad person. He manipulated Marco, he actively takes _advantage_ of Marco, keeps him away from Stef, does all _kinds_ of shit that Stef will _never_ know about!

...Doesn't he?

_Isn't_ he a bad person? 

Marco wouldn't leave Stef without good reason! 

So... maybe Marco's reason for leaving was that Stef is no longer the person who makes him happiest. Maybe... maybe Dante...

Maybe Stef's been wrong about Dante.

Maybe they've been going about this the wrong way.

Maybe they need to take a few days to reevaluate their worldview.

**Friday, May 29.**

> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** yeahd okay i get thtat but how do you just apologize to the guy you wspent like a whole yeadr accussing of being a manupulative jerrkwad orr whatever
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨:** just tell him the truth. that you're overprotective of Marco due to years of shared trauma and you overreacted.
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** i do NOT have traumea!!
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** but lieke. do you think that would work???
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨** : i think it's a good jumping-off point. Dante's a reasonable guy, steffie, and he WANTS you and Marco to patch things up!
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨** : just getting on speaking terms with Dante will be enough to convince Marco you're TRYING. and that's what he wants, stef.
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** okay. i'm gonna do it. sendn me hi snumber pleadse.
> 
> **FROM: ✨show pony✨** : you'll do great, stef. 💖

\-----

> **FROM: gabe babe:** Did you have dinner yet?
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** shoot no!! i tototally for got!! thantk for remingdng me gabey!!!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Of course! :-D Hey, how about if I send Bunny over with something? She's off in aout half an hour. Can you wait that long? It'll be nice and hot and resh!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Oh my goodness. *about *fresh :-(
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** WHY do your insist on correcteing yout typos do your not see this hot GARABGAGE i am spwewing out of my fignertips
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** ANYWYWA yees POLEASE send me food i font wannt amake maraconi i a lways make the noodels too soggy 😔 😭
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Okay! Chef's Surprise, comin' up! ;-* Also PLEASE tip Bunny when she gets there, she's saving up for a pair of skates!!
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** aaahhhh i ssse the real reasdon you're sendidng bunny instead of shaw is so you can pay her eOVERTIME huh?? 😘
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** i gott it coevered babe!!!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** THANK YOU! And don't tell her I told you that or she won't accept the tip...
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** got it!!!!! now get back to WORK!!! 
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Wow, tehre wasn't a single typo in that sentence! You're losing your touch, Mx. Campbell! ;-D
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** ...
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** *there
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** LMAO!!!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking up. :')
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! 💖 If you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to leave kudos or a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😄You can also message me on tumblr [@enby-jetstar](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/)! I put up a couple of tumblr-exclusive bonus scenes from this fic over the last month, if you want to check them out!


	11. June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello!! welcome to yet another chapter of Playground Eyes! i hope you're doing well!! 💖
> 
> BIG thank you as always to my friend [Pink](https://dykemilligram.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this for me!! your work is always appreciated 😊
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: mentions of/references to sex and general mental health problems.

**Wednesday, June 3.**

It's the third week of student-led D&D games, and it's _finally_ Georgie's turn. Apparently she'd been hard at work planning hers out, because Stef had _honestly_ thought she'd be the first one done, as excited as she'd been by the prospect, but she hadn't turned her outline in until this Monday.

They know, thanks to their close personal relationship with her father, that she's been spending quite a bit of time planning it out, and consulting Gabe's rulebooks, and asking him lots of questions. She'd turned in three pages instead of just one, hastily stapled together. Stef had been _thrilled_ to read through it, pleased to see all the different possibilities she'd accounted for and the creative puzzles she'd come up with. It's far too long for a quick one-off game, but hopefully they'll be able to get through enough of it that she and the other kids won't be disappointed.

And, hey. They can always play at recess.

Chess is the last kid to arrive, huffing and puffing as he drops into his seat. "I had to finish my spelling," he tells them by way of explanation. "So I was late to get to lunch."

"That's okay, we still have plenty of time," Stef tells him. "Georgie's the GM today, so everybody listen carefully to what she has to say."

They all turn toward Georgie, who's sitting beside Stef today, grinning at everyone. "Okay!" she announces. "So today, we are going to the magic underwater kingdom of Atlampis."

"You mean _Atlantis,"_ Arnie corrects her, but Georgie shakes her head.

"No," she says, eyes wide. She bounces in her seat, doing a poor job of containing her excitement. "At _lamp_ is! I will explain why it's called that after we finish our preparations!" She turns to Stef. "Mx. Campbell, if you will _please_ pass out the supplies?"

"Certainly." Stef opens up their folder and pulls out five photocopies of Georgie's original drawing, and passes one to each of the players.

"What are these for?" Chess asks as he receives his, peering closely at it.

"You'll find out!" Sarah sing-songs.

Once everyone has their papers, Georgie continues, "As you can see, we need some _special_ supplies for our trip today!" She holds up her own sheet, the original drawing, and points to each item as she lists them off. "Firstly! We have our _patented_ waterproof backpack to keep all our things in! It is _magical,_ so even when you open it underwater, your stuff will stay dry! Secondly, we have _magical rebreathers._ These let us breathe underwater for _six hours_ until they need to be recharged!"

"How do we recharge them?" Benson asks. "Only _two_ people have magic! And _I_ don't!"

"They need to be in _real actual_ sunlight for at least _four hours_ to recharge!" Georgie tells everyone. "And it is _very difficult_ to find sunlight under the ocean, so we have to be _very careful_ about what we do!"

She explains the rest of the items to the group, which include swimming flippers, food and medical supplies, as well as a magical lantern that uses no flame. She doesn't tell anyone what the lantern is for, but she and Sarah exchange amused glances, so Stef is pretty sure Sarah knows the entire plan (and of course, Stef knows, too, having read through all her notes).

And then they're off, all five of the players diving into the sea in order to answer a distress call they'd received as a message in a bottle. The message had also included a map, which is another photocopy Stef passes out. Georgie had drawn a rather rudimentary, but still _very_ impressive map of the route they would need to take from the surface down to the bottom of the ocean and through some rather treacherous areas. It honestly puts every map Stef's ever attempted to draw for a D&D campaign to shame.

The minutes tick by, barely noticed, as Georgie spins them a tale of this underwater place, and leads them through a dark tunnel full of mysterious noises and frightening shadows, out into deeper and deeper water.

When they can no longer see, Georgie instructs them to take out their flameless lanterns, allowing them to see a few feet in front of them.

They swim on, checking the map every once in a while to make sure they stay on course.

"You go around the corner," Georgie says, and Stef can see her biting her lip to keep from grinning too big and giving it all away, "and something moves at the edge of your light. Somethin' _big._ "

"I wanna check it out!" says Ava. 

"No," Chess says. "We have to get to the end of the map!"

"What if it's a monster?" Benson whispers, his eyes sparkling. "What if we get caught an' it takes us to a big underwater cave an' we can't get to sunlight in time for our 'breathers to charge an' we _drown_ or get _ate?!_ "

"Whaddaya wanna do?" Georgie asks, sitting at the edge of her seat. 

The group, after some deliberating, decides to investigate.

"You swim closer to the big mysterious thing," Georgie says, and there's a tremble of excitement in her voice, "and suddenly! You see a **_big monster!"_ ** She jumps clean out of her chair, waving her arms around. "It's wider than three of you put together, an' it's got two _huge_ brown eyes staring _direc'ly_ at you!"

Ava and Benson gasp, and Sarah lets out an excited giggle. Stef covers their mouth with their hand to keep from laughing.

"I have my axe!" Arnie shouts. "I run at it and yell my battle cry--" He lets out a strangled yell, and Stef has to quickly shush him and ask him to lower his voice, less Korse or some other member of staff hear and come in to scold them all. "--an' I _swing_ it at the monster!"

Georgie grabs up two dice, almost throwing one at Arnie in her haste. "Roll against me!" she exclaims.

They roll. Arnie rolls a 2, and Georgie gets a 5.

She's not even _pretending_ to hide her excitement now, launching straight into more exposition. "The monster hears your yell and turns around!" She throws her arms into the air again. "It wasn't a big monster face after all! It was a _merperson_ with a big green fish tail and _bi-iii-iiiig_ brown _moth wings!"_

"Shouldn't it be _mermaid?"_ Chess asks.

"No that's just _girl_ merpeople," Georgie says, arms still spread out to her sides. "Merpeople is _gender neutral._ Anyway! It's a merperson with big moth wings! What you thought were eyes were _actually_ just markings on their wings! The merperson yells when they see your axe and casts a _spell_ on you! They cast, um, they cast--" she looks down at her notes, "--they cast _freeze_ an' now you're in a block'a ice!"

"Dang it," Arnie pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

Georgie laughs, and she sucks in a breath to continue, when the bell rings over the loudspeaker.

Everyone startles, Stef included. They'd had no _idea_ lunchtime was nearly over! They get to their feet. "Sorry, kiddos," they say, "but that's it for today! Take your trays to the kitchen and get back to your classrooms."

The kids groan, but they obey, wishing each other goodbye. Georgie, who'd brought a box lunch today, carefully puts her things away while Stef does the same.

"Mx. Campbell," she asks, and Stef looks over their shoulder at her. "Was that good? Did I do a good job of bein' a GM?"

"That was _great,_ Georgie!" they exclaim, turning around to face her more fully. "You had _me_ on the edge of my seat, and I'd already read all your notes!"

She bounces on her toes. _"Really?"_ she asks. "That's so _awesome!_ Sarah an' my daddy said it was really good, but they _always_ say everything I do is really good, so they can't be _actually_ trusted, y'know? But I had _so much_ fun today! I'm gonna draw that part where Ava's gnome got stuck in the seaweed an' everyone had to pull him out! Do you think I can finish the game sometime? If nobody else wants to be a GM before the end of school?"

"If there's a day when no one else wants to GM, you can do so," Stef tells her, "but there's only two more club meetings after this, so I don't know if that will happen. _But,"_ they continue, before she can look too put-out, "you can always play at recess. Third and fourth grade have the same lunch period, so as long as you let the other five know, you can probably finish the game then."

She brightens. "You're _so_ right!" she says, and then she closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around Stef's waist in a big hug. "Thank you _so much_ for your help, Mx. Campbell! You are the _best!"_

It takes all of Stef's willpower not to burst into happy tears.

**Saturday, June 6.**

"Okay Georgie, you be good for Madhavi, yeah?" Gabe says, straightening his shirt. "And don't drink any protein shake she might offer you. Not because they're _bad,_ but just because I don't want her to have the satisfaction."

"Okay," Georgie says from where she's seated on the edge of his bed. "Daddy, didn't you wear that shirt last time you went on a date with Mx.-- with Stef? And the time before that?"

He looks down at his shirt. It's the yellow button-up covered in peppers that Stef had given him for his birthday. "Yes?" He looks up at her. "It looks good, right? There's not a stain on it, is there?"

Georgie rolls her eyes, grinning. "You just wear that 'cause you like it when Stef calls you 'hot stuff' when they see you in it."

His cheeks heat up. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he says, and she laughs. 

"It's okay, Daddy," she says. "Jason has a hat that says somethin' about old fishermen smellin' bad on it, an' he thinks it's ugly but he wears it every time he an' Dad take me to the park 'cause Dad always laughs an' tells 'im he's cute when he does."

Gabe snorts. "Yeah, that sounds like somethin' your dad would do." 

She looks at him. 

He looks back at her.

There's a knock at the door, followed by a gruff, "Hey, Gabe! I'm here for the kid!"

"Hang on!" he calls. He moves in close enough to give Georgie a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Grab your backpack," he says. "And your shoes."

While she runs off to do that, Gabe makes his way down the hallway and to the front door, throwing it open to find Madhavi standing on his porch, with Stef's Trans Am pulling up behind her. "Hey, Mads," he says. "You're just in time, thanks!"

She grins widely, reaching up to tousle her hair. "Not a problem," she says. "Gotta watch Sam tonight, anyway, since Lola an' Kai're outta town. That kid's a handful. Better with Georgie around, though. Actually _talks_ to her. When they think me an' Simon can't hear 'em, anyway. Heh."

Stef parks their car near hers, and she turns to face them as they get out and start up the steps. "Aw, hey!" she calls. "If it ain't Little Mx. Stef. Here for a date, huh?"

"Hey, Madhavi," Stef greets. "Simon with you?"

"Nah. I'm pickin' up the kid so you an' Gabey here can have a nice time." She winks, and Gabe rolls his eyes. "Sam's in the car, though."

Stef glances into Madhavi's car, and Gabe follows their gaze to see Lola and Kai's foster kid sitting in the passenger seat, staring directly at Stef with an unnerving intensity Gabe can feel even from here.

Stef waves a little awkwardly at the car, and Sam immediately turns away, staring out the opposite window. Stef meets Gabe's eye, shrugs, and climbs up the steps to the porch. "Hey, hot stuff," they say, slipping an arm around Gabe's waist, and he can't help the burst of warm fuzziness that spreads through his chest at those words.

"Hey," he replies, putting his own arm around their shoulders. "Just gotta wait for Georgie to get her stuff ready, and then we can--"

"I got it!" Georgie comes running out the door, her little yellow backpack clutched in her hands. "Hi Ms. Madhavi! Hi Stef!" She raises her voice and stands on her tiptoes, waving one arm over her head and calling "Hi Sam!"

Sam doesn't acknowledge her. Georgie doesn't seem to mind.

"Have fun at Madhavi and Simon's," Gabe says. Then he turns to Madhavi. "Don't let her have sugar after eight, please. And make sure she brushes her teeth. She's been forgetting lately."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll make sure the kid doesn't lose all 'er teeth an' all that good stuff." Madhavi looks down at Georgie, who's looking expectantly up at her. "Go on an' get in the backseat, squirt, an' we'll grab ice cream before we head home. Still got an hour an' a half before we gotta shut off the sugar valve."

Georgie squeals and darts off to Madhavi's car to fling herself into the backseat, and Gabe shakes his head with a sigh. 

"I'm glad it's you and not me," he tells her, and she laughs and ruffles his hair, no doubt messing the perfect layering he'd just spent ten minutes styling. 

"Have fun on your date, weirdos." She gives them both a little wave, and then hops down from the porch to get in the driver's seat.

Stef reaches up to fix his hair, and he turns his gaze to them. "You ready to go, babe?" they ask, and he nods.

"The movie starts in forty-five minutes," he says, letting go of their shoulders to reach down and take their hand in his. "Anything you need to do before we go?"

"Yeah." Stef kisses him, squeezing his hand as they do so, and when they pull away, grinning, they say, "Okay. _Now_ we can go."

\-----

Gabe tries his best to pay attention to the movie, but he keeps finding himself distracted by Stef beside him. They've moved the armrest between them out of the way so that they can lean against each other, their fingers entwined during most of the movie (except when they need to pass popcorn between them).

Stef's shoulders shake when they laugh, and Gabe can feel their little hums of pleasure when they find some action sequence or bit of dialogue particularly good. He leans his head on their shoulder halfway through the movie and just closes his eyes, listening to both the movie and to Stef. It's nice. The movie wasn't really his speed, anyway.

When they leave the theater, Stef's in high spirits, practically talking his ear off from the theater to the edge of the parking lot as they drive away. Only then do they pause and ask if he had fun, to which he truthfully replies, "Of course."

Stef parks outside of Gabe's house, turns off the engine, and they both sit there in silence for a few minutes in the dark.

"Thanks for lettin' me stay over," Stef murmurs, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Gabe says. He leans over, brushes a lock of their hair behind their ear, trails his fingers down their neck. They shiver. "You can stay over anytime. It doesn't _just_ have to be after a date, you know."

"I don't want to kick _Georgie_ out of her own house," Stef protests, reaching up and entangling their fingers with his again. 

He laughs, just a quiet chuckle. "You wouldn't be," he says. "You can stay over whether she's here or not."

"I thought you only wanted me to stay overnight if she wasn't here?"

"What? No. It's just easier for Lola to take her overnight if I'm going to be out late, and, you know, I don't want her around if we're sleeping together. In the figurative sense, I mean. The walls are way too thin for that."

"Oh." Stef falls silent again, but they keep their hand on his, their thumb running over the side of his palm. "I dunno, I just thought..." They bite their lip, shake their head. "Never mind," they say. They squeeze his hand, and then release it. "Let's get inside, huh? I can think of a _lot_ of surfaces in your house that are comfier than these seats." 

They open the door and hop out, so Gabe follows suit. He can't help but wonder what Stef had been about to say, but it doesn't seem like something he needs to drag out of them.

He'll let them tell him when they're ready.

**Sunday, June 7.**

> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** shaw this iss really important. 
> 
> **TO: ✨show pony✨:** i NEED dante's number.

**Saturday, June 13.**

Stef hasn't been to this cafe in months, despite the fact that it used to be a weekly tradition to spend a few hours here every Wednesday. The atmosphere feels different in here, somehow... Or maybe that's just their nerves.

They order a plain iced tea, too focused on their thoughts to look at the menu, and then they turn and scan the dining room.

They spot him at a booth in the back of the room, a mug and an empty plate on the table in front of him. He's got his phone out, looking at whatever's on the screen with his head propped in his other hand.

A cold block of ice forms in Stef's stomach. They _hate_ him-- no they don't. They close their eyes, let out a breath, will the ice away. They need to be civil. They need to _talk_ to him. They need to... try and get over this stupid hurdle in their mind that won't let them _like_ him, won't let them _trust_ him.

Stef opens their eyes and starts for the booth before they can stop themself again. He doesn't look up until they're just a few feet away, and then he straightens up, setting his phone aside and watching them impassively.

They slide into the seat across from him and stare at him. Neither of them speak or move for what feels like an eternity. He arches an eyebrow at them.

Stef swallows back the rude statement that wells up within them and says, instead, "Hey, Dante. Thanks for meeting me."

Dante raises both eyebrows at them. "Damn," he says. "You're serious."

They bite their tongue, then say, "I wouldn't have texted you at all if I wasn't serious."

"Okay," he says, taking a sip from his mug. "Good. So, your text said you need to 'pologize. You wanna start with that? Or d'you have somethin' else to talk about first?"

"I-- no. That's where I wanna start." They clear their throat, look down at the plastic cup in their hands. "I'm sorry. For all the garbage I said about you, for... warning Marco away from you, for...." they shake their head. "For everything."

"Okay," Dante says. "That's a start. Wanna tell me why you did all that shit? An' why the sudden change'a heart?"

They clamp their lips shut. They're _not_ telling _Dante_ about eavesdropping on his and Marco's conversation a couple of weeks ago. They can only _imagine_ the reaction to _that._ "I just," they start, and then stop. How the heck do they answer this? "I love Marco," they say, and they don't know how else to continue.

"Yeah," Dante says. "So do I. That's why I'm here."

Last month they would have refused to believe that. Today... they're pretty sure it's the truth. They... they _hope_ it's the truth. They take a breath. "Marco is... the most important person in my life. He's... been through a lot."

"I know," Dante says. "He told me about it."

"Right." Stef wonders if that means Marco had told him _everything,_ about the sleepless nights and the hollow days, the constant self-deprecation and the awful coping mechanisms--well, if he'd told him about the piercings, about things he'd never even told _Stef,_ then it's likely that Dante _does_ know everything. They don't know how to take that. They try not to think about it. "That's... I didn't want anything bad to happen to him," they say. "Anything _else,_ especially not when he'd just started recovering, and the timing... the timing of you two getting together, it just... I was worried. I didn't trust you."

"You _still_ don't trust me," Dante says, but it's not accusatory; just a statement of a fact. "Least, not totally. An', look." He points at Stef, looking them dead in the eye, and they have to resist the urge to squirm. "You _hurt_ Marco with all this shit. I don't trust you not to hurt 'im again."

Stef drops their gaze, bites their lip. He's right. Of _course_ he's right, that's why this is all _happening,_ why Marco stopped talking to them in the first place; they _hurt_ him, and they want to fix it. This is the first step toward that. But that doesn't mean they like being reminded of that fact.

"So," Dante continues, "what do we hafta do to trust each other?"

Stef looks up sharply, meets Dante's intense gaze again. "What?" they ask, and it comes out as more of a whisper. They clear their throat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Dante says, "Marco's not gonna be happy 'til we work out whatever the fuck is goin' on between us. So, what do we have to do in order for the both of us to trust each other?"

They shake their head. "I don't know what would make me trust you," they say. "But I... I'm already, like, _on the way_ to trustin' you. What do you want me to say? Or do? I... I don't want Marco to get hurt anymore."

Dante stares at them for a long, hard minute, but this time they force themself to keep eye contact, not to look away. He takes a drink from his mug, leans back in his seat.

"Did you know," he says, "that this isn't the first time I've been engaged?" 

Stef nearly chokes on their own tongue, coughing and taking a big gulp of their tea before saying, " _What?_ No!"

Dante snorts. "Yeah. Started datin' when we were twenty.... Got engaged right after she finished college." He takes another, casual sip of his drink, as though he hasn't just dropped this huge bombshell on them.

"What happened?" they ask, their mind swinging from _she died_ to _he cheated_ to a thousand other scenarios.

He shrugs. "She found someone better." There's no bitterness to his voice, nothing hard in his eyes. 

"...Oh."

"It wasn't surprisin'," he continues. "I don't think either of us was really in love with the other, y'know? Our relationship was just... easy. Not in a good way, though." He pauses, looking up at the ceiling and rubbing his hand over his chin. "We didn't spend a lotta time together. Didn't have a lotta interests in common. She didn't like it when I talked about the shit I was into, so after a while I just stopped talkin' about it around her. I think I tried to be interested in the stuff she liked, but I dunno. Maybe I was a bad listener, too, or maybe she just didn't like talkin' to me about that kinda thing." He sighs. "Whatever the reason was, we didn't talk much, 'cept about bills an' houses an' weddin' plans an' all that. I didn't think it was weird. That was just what adult life was like, y'know? Bills an' houses an' weddin's." 

"...When did you break it off?" Stef asks, when it seems like Dante's going to leave it at that.

"Two years after we got engaged," he says. "Little over a year ago."

"Little over a-- wait, you broke your _engagement_ right before you met my brother? And then _got engaged_ _to him_ immediately?!" Darn it, darn it, _darn_ it, that's a _huge_ red flag, and Stef's seriously considering rescinding their apology and dragging Marco back home _immediately!_

Dante snorts again, tapping his metal pinky against the empty plate in front of him. "Yeah, shit, I mean, there was a couple months between the relationships, but shit, I was surprised, too." He shakes his head. "Didn't really know what it was like to be in an actual _good_ relationship, with someone who actually _wants_ to know you, wants to support you an' all that shit." He rubs the palm of his hand into his eye. "Shit, I'm _not_ gettin' sappy here while I'm talkin' to _you._ I'm still mad at you. You're not allowed to know all my deepest fuckin' emotions."

"Why are you telling me this?" Stef asks. "How exactly is _this,_ you tellin' me about your _failed engagement,_ supposed to make me trust you with my brother?"

Dante drops his hand into his lap. "I dunno," he says with a shrug. "I'm just tellin' you about my life."

They don't say anything right away. Despite the fact that Stef's... _concerned_ about Dante's previous romantic exploits in regards to how that will affect his _current_ relationship with Marco, they can't help but... appreciate the fact that he's telling them about this.

They take a drink of their tea. Enough of the ice has melted by this point that their drink is way too watered down to be tasty, but they're not about to leave this booth to go get a new one. Not until this is all worked out.

"I took Marco with me when I went to college," they say, when they finally manage to think of a response. "He was sixteen. I--and my best friend, Shaw--took care of him when his mental health tanked.

"I know," Dante says. "Marco told me all about it. ...He's grateful he has you as a big siblin'."

Stef swallows, clutching at their tea with both hands. They don't _feel_ like a very good sibling right now. ...But they're working on it. "I gave up a lot for him," they say. "Spent my youth bein' a parent more often than I spent it... bein' a _kid._ My whole life revolved around Marco. ...Still does, I think." They sigh. "And I wouldn't change any of that. I'd never go back and choose _not_ to focus on him, go back and choose parties an' games an'... _careers_ over him." They bite their lip. "He's the most important person in my life. I _want_ him to be happy. I want to _let go."_

They both fall quiet again. Dante upends the rest of his drink into his mouth, sets the mug at the edge of the table. Stef stares down at their hands.

"Y'know," Dante says suddenly, and they look up at him again. "I'm not an expert on mental health, but it seems to me that if you're havin' so much trouble, maybe you should go see a therapist."

Stef's jaw tightens. "I don't need a therapist," they say as calmly as they can. "I'm _fine."_

Dante shrugs. "You don't gotta take my advice," he says. "But it can't hurt, yeah? Sure helps Marco out a lot." He leans back and stretches. "Anyway. I think we're done here."

Panic floods Stef's brain, and they have to dig their nails into their palms to keep from grabbing at him across the table. "Wait," they say. "Wait, we-- what about--"

"Look," Dante says, sliding out of the booth and standing up. "You came to me. You apologized. You _talked_ to me, without tryin' to maim me or call me whatever shitty names you think of when you think'a me. Listened to my story. You love Marco as much as I do." He picks up his mug and plate. "That's enough for me. I forgive you." He turns to head back to the counter, but Stef reaches out before they can stop themself, their fingers curling around his arm. He stops, looks over his shoulder at them.

"Sorry," Stef says, immediately releasing him. "Sorry, I--I just. That's it? That's all I had to--that's all you _wanted?"_

"What I want," Dante says, "is for Marco to be happy. He hasn't been _happy_ since you two got in that fight an' he moved in two months earlier than we'd planned. So, yeah. As long as you can be civil to me, I'm gonna talk to Marco an' see if he's willin' to talk to you again." A lock of hair falls into his face, and he flicks it away with a shake of his head. "I'll text ya with news."

_"Thank_ you," Stef says, and _dang it_ their eyes are getting all watery! They swipe at their eyes. 

"Yeah, yeah. Don't think about it too much, crybaby." There's not a hint of venom in Dante's voice; his tone is soft.

Stef stays there for a few minutes after Dante leaves,wiping at their eyes with paper napkins until they finally come away dry.

They don't know if they've done enough... But it's a start.

**Wednesday, June 17.**

"Stef says they're up for running the game," Gabe tells Madhavi as they complete their respective workouts. "So as long as nothing _awful_ happens to them within the next thirty days, it should be fine."

"Cool," Madhavi says. "I never played any'a that kinda thing before. I was more of a jock in high school an' college."

"Obviously," says Gabe. "But it's fine. Stef's been runnin' a game for _fourth graders._ I don't think they'll be too upset about having to explain the rules to you or slowing the pace down."

"Never woulda even touched that nerd shit if it wasn't for the fact that, _somehow,_ I wound up with a total nerd for a partner." She sighs, then snorts. "Damn it, _all_ my friends are nerds. You're the only jock, an' Lola's the only one who won't talk my ear off about Lord of the Rings or whatever-the-fuck."

"Excuse me. I have never _once_ talked your ear off about Lord of the Rings."

"Yeah, you're the _whatever-the-fuck_. Heh." Madhavi sets her weights down and stretches her back. "Shit, I got a new client in a couple hours. Gotta get goin' a little early."

"Okay." Gabe sets his weights down, too, mostly so he can talk to her more easily. "I'll text you when we have a time and date picked out. Are you gonna need help planning a character, or is Simon doing that?"

"I already have a character planned out," Madhavi says, stepping over to the bench to uncap her water and take a swig. "Human fighter. Name's Madhavi. Got a killer right hook. Heh."

Gabe rolls his eyes. "Not even gonna _try_ to disguise your self-insert, huh?"

"Nope." She pops her _p,_ slipping her water bottle back into the bag and swinging it over her shoulder. "I'll leave that kinda thing to you nerds. See ya next week, Gabe. ...'Less ya need me to take the kid for a while on Saturday."

"Nah, we're just gonna go to the park this week, so we'll take Georgie with us. Thanks, though." He reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. "Have a great day! And, uh, good luck with the new client!"

She waves over her shoulder at him as she leaves the gym. 

\-----

"And then, um, then an even _bigger_ guy comes in," says Benson, whose GM notes consist mostly of drawings of professional wrestlers (helpfully labeled) and a list of what kind of "karate" moves each of them can use in a fight. "And, and he says, he says--" Benson deepens his voice, "'What kind of person just walks in and beats up a guy's secretary like that?'"

"Wait," asks Arnie, brow furrowed. "You mean the guy in the wrestling ring was this guy's _secretary?!"_

"Yeah," Benson giggles. "He was just _pretendin'_ to be the _actual_ Mr. Big Fist!"

Stef covers their mouth with one hand to hide their laughter. The kids have all managed to lead a D&D session now that Benson's having his turn, and it's been so much fun to see what each kid comes up with. Ava had stuck with a fairly normal setting and plot consisting of fighting zombie gnomes in a forest; Chess had planned out a puzzle game involving a magic maze (the fact that the maze consisted of three doors and no branching paths and that the puzzles were all either far too simple or far too convoluted to follow didn't matter; everyone had had fun, and Chess was proud of himself); Georgie had of course run her _mothmerperson_ game in _Atlampis_ (which had, as Stef had recommended, been finished over the course of a couple of recesses--and Georgie had told Stef all about it when they'd stopped by the diner one afternoon); Sarah had led a game focused on finding magical star pieces to power _Princess Melty's_ magic wand; Arnie had led the group back into the desert of Stef's campaign to look for buried treasure; and today, Benson is running an explicitly Wrestlemania-themed game for everyone.

The game consists of each player going up against a knock-off version of the professional wrestlers Benson's drawn in his notes, and when they've all won, they have to band together and take on a Frankenstein's monster-esque combination of several other wrestlers. 

The game's over with a few minutes to spare, so while the kids are all excitedly going over the events that have just transpired, Stef goes over to the back counter and collects the tray of cupcakes they'd picked up at the supermarket this morning.

"Mx. Campbell!" Ava calls, standing up at her spot, "are those for _us?!"_

"Sure are," Stef says, placing the tray down in the center of the table. "Everybody gets _one_ cupcake, take the one you _touch,_ don't touch them all, please, Chess." They wait for everyone to select a cupcake before throwing the empty tray in the garbage and sitting back down.

"Now," they say. "You all know this is the last day of D&D Club." They wait for the chorus of groans to die down before continuing, "I've had a _wonderful_ time with you all this year. I hope you all had fun. Maybe you can play games like this with your families and friends, now that you know how fun it is."

"I can come back next year, though!" Benson pipes up. He has frosting all over his mouth. "'Cause _I'm_ gonna be in 4th grade next year."

"Right. You can join this club again next year, if you want. But the rest of you are going to middle school next year." 

"Are there clubs like this in middle school?" Sarah asks.

"There are clubs," Stef says. "And sports teams. _Way_ more things to do in middle school than there are here. But I don't think there's a D&D Club, sorry."

More groans from around the table.

"There's plenty of other stuff for you to enjoy, though," Stef continues. "And you can play roleplaying games together at recess or after school. You all know how to be a team player, and how to lead everyone else to have fun, right?"

The kids agree. 

"Then you're all set! Hurry up and finish your cupcakes. The bell's about to ring."

And ring it does. The kids all jump up at the sound, but instead of gathering their trays up, like Stef had expected them to, the six of them exchange looks, and then they rush around the table, wrapping their arms around Stef from both sides. It startles them, at first, but then they laugh, and wiggle their arms around enough to tug them closer, hug them back.

"We'll miss you, Mx. Campbell!" Arnie says. 

"Yeah," says Chess. "You're an _awesome_ GM!"

"You're the best teacher ever," Sarah says.

"You guys," Stef sniffles. "I'm gonna _cry!_ Don't make me cry, okay, I'm gonna do that on Friday anyway, and you kids have to go put your trays away!" 

The kids do pull away then, gathering up their things and waving to Stef as they leave the classroom. Georgie smiles the widest, Stef thinks.

Once they've all left, Stef pulls out their phone, _honestly_ fighting back tears--they frickin' _love_ kids, love how sweet they are--and looks at their unread messages from the last couple of hours.

The one at the top makes their heart stop, and then pound twice as fast.

> **FROM: baby bro:** hi stef. i know you're working right now, but we need to talk. can you text me this afternoon?

Marco's actually _texting_ them! For the first time in two months! The tears really do spill over, now, and they hastily wipe at their face as they type out a response, careful not to make any typos.

> **TO: baby bro:** of course. as soon as i'm done in the classroom.
> 
> **TO: baby bro:** i love you, marco.

A reply comes almost instantly, four simple words that will carry Stef joyfully through the rest of the afternoon.

> **FROM: baby bro:** i love you too.

  
  


**Friday, June 19.**

The last day of school is always a weird mix between laid-back and frenzied that Stef's not sure they'll ever really be used to. 

The kids are excited all day, and there's really no actual _work_ to be done, aside from the occasional last-minute makeup tests a couple of kids need to finish, so the morning is mostly full of "educational" games (in other words, any game that features math or spelling questions), storytime and silent reading. The kids have an extra-long recess at lunch, too, and while they're out, Stef uses the time to gather up all the remaining healthy and tasty snacks from their cupboard stash and divvies them up between all seventeen students. 

They deposit a single plate of snacks at each child's seat, along with a manila envelope containing all the projects and schoolwork they haven't already taken home, and a little notebook and sticker sheet to commemorate the end of the school year.

When the kids come in from recess, they enthusiastically take their seats, chatting and eating and getting, well, a little _too_ loud, but whatever. It's the last day of school, who cares.

"Okay, kids," Stef calls after they've had a few minutes, "We've got a couple hours left, so I've got _two_ movies here, and I need you to choose _one!"_

"Shrek!" Georgie calls immediately, and several other kids echo her. They feign exasperation.

"Unfortunately, I don't have Shrek here, Georgie," they tell her, and she pouts dramatically at them. "What I _do_ have are Frozen 2 and Trolls. We're gonna vote, okay? So... raise your hand if you wanna watch Frozen 2!"

Several hands go up, and Stef counts them quickly. Seven. They ask for a vote on Trolls anyway, out of courtesy, and of course, ten hands go up. Trolls it is. They pop in the DVD, turn the projector on and the lights off, and they're good to go.

While the kids are engrossed in their movie, Stef uses the time to finish up some of their end-of-year paperwork, squinting at the bright light of their computer screen in the darkness of the room. They're gonna have to get a new prescription for their reading glasses soon.

"St--Mx. Campbell?"

They look up to see Georgie standing by their desk, her hands clutched behind her back. "Hey, Georgie," they say, turning to face her. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Nothin'," she says. She bounces slowly on the balls of her feet, dropping her hands to her sides and then folding them over her torso. "I just... I wanted to day that I'm _really_ glad you got to be my teacher this year."

"Aw, Georgie." The grin at her, and she grins back, dropping her arms back to her sides. "I'm glad, too! I had a lot of fun with you in my class this year."

"Yeah." Her smile twitches a little, then drops. "I'm gonna miss you. You're my favorite teacher."

"Georgie... you'll still see me!" they say, not prepared for the emotional goodbye (those usually happen _after_ the movie, just before the bell rings). "You'll see me all summer when I go to see you and your daddy!"

"It's not the same," she says. "I'll _miss_ you!"

And then she launches herself at them, wrapping her arms around their middle and squeezing them, and all Stef can really do is give her an awkward side hug and pat her back while they try to force back their tears (they've always cried so easily). "I'll miss you, too," they tell her. "The classroom won't be the same without you. But you'll have good, fun teachers in middle school, and I'm not gonna be out of your life just yet!"

She sniffles. "Yeah," she says. A quiet moment passes, the only sound that of the musical number in the movie, and then she releases them and pulls back. She smiles again, a wide, genuine smile. "You're the best," she says. "Thanks for bein' you."

She turns and heads back to her desk before Stef can respond, and they find it much more difficult to concentrate on their work.

\-----

Stef, along with most of the other teachers, accompany their students outside at the end of the day, waving and calling goodbye as each kid gets onto their bus or into the backseat of their parents' cars. At least here they're not the only one fighting back tears.

Kai's picking Georgie up today, and as they wave goodbye to her, they notice his and Lola's foster kid, Sam, in the passenger seat, staring directly at them with the same intensity they had at the game night last month. It's unnerving, because Stef still doesn't know _why_ they do it, when they haven't even had a conversation with the kid.

Once the car pulls away, taking Sam _and_ Georgie with it, they relax again.

"It's always hard, isn't it?" Manami asks, coming up on Stef's right and waving to one of her kindergarteners. "I can't help but love each one of them, and then they're gone." She sighs, and gives Stef a rueful smile. "At least I get to see most of mine in the halls next year, even if I don't get to teach them again. Yours--"

"Mine go to an entirely new school," Stef finishes, shaking their head. "I really should have taken a job as a second-grade teacher, like Simon. Maybe then it wouldn't be so hard to watch 'em go."

"Well, they're not all hard, are they?" She smiles teasingly at them. "Remember your first year here? That one kid who swore he was going to, what was it--"

_"Yes,_ don't frickin' remind me! That was _Val._ He told everyone he was gonna take my color, tried to convince everyone he was my... reincarnation, I think? _Ugh._ I'm not even dead!"

She laughs, patting their arm. "Tough luck for your first class. You're prepared for anything now though, aren't you?"

"Prepared for _menaces,_ yes." They shoot her a smile. "Looks like the kids are all gone. Need any help cleanin' your classroom before you go home tonight?"

"Ooh, if you don't mind. I still need to put the art supplies away and fold up the tables."

"Lead the way, Manami!"

**Monday, June 22.**

This is the second time they've been to Dante's house.

Dante's and _Marco's_ house.

The yard is still as cluttered as it was the last time Stef was here, though it looks like some of the big hunks of metal and whatever have been moved around, some of them replaced by other miscellaneous hunks. So apparently Dante actually _does_ use or work with or _whatever_ those things. Maybe he brings his work home from the garage. Maybe he works on cars... or... _whatever_ for fun. Who knows?

They make their way up the steps to the front door, glancing down at the dirt-streaked "WELCOME MOTHER FUCKER" doormat under their feet. It _is_ kind of funny.

They look up to the door again, take a deep breath, and knock. This is it.

There's a shuffling sound on the other side of the door, and then soft footsteps, growing louder, and then they hear the _click_ of the lock, the sound of the doorknob turning, and then the door opens, and they lift their eyes to meet...

_Marco's._

He's opened the door just enough to look out, so it's really just three-quarters or so of his face that's visible, but Stef hasn't seen him in _so long,_ hasn't seen him in _months,_ and so they can't _possibly_ be blamed for the way their heart skips a beat when they see their brother.

He looks just the same as he did the last time they saw him (well, maybe not the _last_ time) (and of course he looks the same, it's only been _two months,_ not _years_ ). Same bleached-blond hair, same hazel eyes, same long, straight nose, same mouth, lips set into the same straight line. He's got the start of a beard, maybe, which isn't _that_ unusual, except maybe that it looks like he's keeping it neat and trimmed, like maybe he's growing it on _purpose_ instead of just neglecting his care and ending up stubbly. His eyes... his eyes look a little wary, and a little hopeful, and... and...

And he looks _okay._

All of Stef's worst fears, that Marco had slipped back again, that he'd let himself fall back into old, bad habits, that _Dante had done something to him,_ they're disproven with just that one glance at his face. Marco... he looks _better_ than just _okay._ He looks...

"Hey, Marco," Stef says, trying not to seem too eager, or too nervous, or too _anything._ This meeting is _important._ Everything hinges on how this goes, and they _need_ to make sure it goes okay.

_Shaw had told them that it would be okay. Gabe had told them he'd be there for them one way or another. Simon and Manami had wished them luck. Even Dante had told them it would be fine._

If it goes badly _(it_ won't _go badly)_ , it's not the end. It's not their last chance. _And they won't be alone._

"Stef," Marco says, and it's the first time they've _heard_ him in just as long, heard his deep voice, low and steady. 

He opens the door wider, then, stepping aside and holding it open for them. Their heart pounds as they walk through the doorway.

They're standing in a living room, basically. There's linoleum under their feet and stretching off to the right, which they can't really look at right now because there's a door and a Marco in the way, but they assume it continues into the kitchen. 

To the left is where the carpet, gray and worn in places, begins. There's a couch against the wall _(where he and Dante must have been sitting that time Stef eavesdropped on them)_ , two chairs, a coffee table, several bookshelves, and two doors that must lead into the rest of the house. The furniture is all mismatched, most of it worn and probably purchased used.

There are pictures on the walls, framed photographs Stef can't really make out from here, and what look like posters tacked up. One of the posters features a black silhouette with bright red eyes against a dark blue background, the words _"West Virginia Mothman"_ plastered at the top. _Weird._

"You want... some tea?" Marco asks, as he closes the door behind them. Stef looks up at him again, but he's looking down at his hand on the doorknob.

"No, that's okay," they say. "Um, should I...? Where should I sit?"

"On the couch," Marco points. "Or in one of the chairs. Doesn't matter too much. Wherever's comfortable."

Stef nods and makes their way into the living room. They settle themself onto the couch, an old tan thing with an actual _quilt_ laying over the back. It and the couch are both _covered_ in cat hair that can only belong to one creature....

"Tomato!" they exclaim as the furry orange creature himself jumps into Stef's lap, already purring a mile a minute. He bumps his head against their hand until they acquiesce, stroking from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. They hadn't realized how much they'd missed _Tomato,_ too.

The cushions beneath them shift, and Stef looks over to see Marco sitting on the other side of the couch, his eyes soft, the corner of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly. "'Mato missed you," he says. 

Stef hums a little in response. It seems that the addition of the great furry monstrosity in their lap has broken the tension, at least a little. Stef's grateful for it. "How've you been?" they ask their brother. "I mean... like, what've you been up to?"

"It's been good," Marco says, leaning back in his seat. Tomato immediately leaves Stef's lap to cuddle up to him, instead, and Marco absently pets him as he speaks. "FInished up a couple big projects, got a couple more comin' up. Plus some little, easy ones." He scratches behind Tomato's ears, and the cat purrs even louder. 

"Have you just been working, then?" Stef asks.

He shakes his head. "Been doin'... a lot," he says, and the corner of his mouth twitches up even higher. "Tryin' out some new hobbies." His smile drops a little. "Cookin's not my thing, though."

They snort, and grin. "You've been _cookin'?"_ they exclaim. "Marco, you _know_ neither of us are any good at _that."_

"Shut up," he says, without any venom. "I wanted to make cinnamon rolls."

"Yeah? How'd they turn out?"

His lips twitch. "Flat. And burnt. Bad. Still ate 'em, though." They must make a face or something, because he continues, _"Okay,_ no, we tossed 'em." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway. How's things been with you? School out yet?"

"Yup. Summer break."

The conversation stalls there, and Stef's not sure how to continue it. Things are so _awkward_ between them right now, and Stef has things they _want_ to say, things they _need_ to say, but now doesn't seem like the right moment. It feels like things are still too... tentative.

It's Marco who breaks the silence, quietly, like he's not sure if things are steady enough, either. "...Things still good with Gabe? I-- uh. Dante told me he was... really worried about you. Gabe was, I mean. Said you hadn't been talkin' to him."

They shake their head. "No, yeah, Gabe an' I're... great. Better than ever, honestly." They bite their lip. It's now or never, they suppose. "I... I went through a pretty rough patch when you left, obviously," they add, with a little humorless laugh. Marco doesn't reply, so they continue, "I... didn't really talk to _anyone._ Made my friends, my coworkers--heck, Marco, even _Korse_ \--worry about me. I..." They sigh. How do they _word_ this? "When you left, it was like-- like my whole _life_ fell apart." They fold their hands in their lap, staring down at their interlaced fingers. "Like, all I could think about was _you,_ and if you were okay, and if-- and if--"

Marco shifts beside them. "Sorry," he says, quiet-- _too_ quiet--too small, and _blaming_ him _self,_ and--

_"No!"_ They unclasp their hands, reach over with their left to grab his hand on his knee, but they stop themself, close their hand on nothing, pull back. "Don't apologize, Marco. This is... _all_ my fault."

He doesn't say anything. For a moment, the only sound is that of Tomato's purring.

"I shouldn't have said those things to you. I _hurt_ you, and that's the thing I _never_ wanted to do."

"Stef--" he sounds aggravated, now. They continue over him.

"I'm sorry about all the things I said about Dante."

He falls quiet again.

"It's..." They sigh. Best to tell the truth. "Look, I still don't _like_ Dante. I think he's rude, and annoying, and narcissistic, and he's not _good enough for you--_ "

"Stef." A warning, this time.

They let out a slow breath, forcing themself to relax before continuing. "He's _not_ good enough for you. But... _no one_ is good enough for you, because you deserve the _best,_ okay? You deserve the best of everything because _you're_ the best, and--"

"Stef." A warning, but lighter. They glance up to see the corner of his mouth curling up, again. 

"Sorry, sorry," they say, their heart feeling just a smidge lighter. "What I'm _trying_ to say is that I don't like Dante. But I... I think he wants--" No. "I _know_ he wants what's best for you, and I know he cares about you, and wants you to be happy. He and I, we... we have that in common."

Again, Marco doesn't say anything. But this time, he moves, his hand finding Stef's and slipping into it, squeezing. They scoot closer, squeeze back.

"I don't... I don't think I ever really believed those things, anyway," they confess, realization striking them at just that moment. "That he was manipulating you or using you or whatever. I just, it all happened so _fast,_ when you were just starting to recover, and I was worried that you'd crash and burn, and end up back at square one. So I tried to get you to drop the relationship, or at least... back up a little." They're an _idiot._ "And then... you _didn't_ crash, and you kept getting better and better, and he was always there with you, and I just thought... I was..." They bite their lip, squeeze his hand. "I was afraid he'd take you away from me."

Marco sighs, and scoots closer, close enough that his leg presses against theirs. He rests their joined hands there. "Stef," he says, slowly, like he's trying to find the words. "I know you worry about me. You've always taken care of me, whether I wanted you to or not." 

They remember kneeling by his bed, begging him to _eat something, anything, please._

"You've always been there for me when I needed you. And I will _always_ need you, in some way."

They look up. Marco's blurry, wavy and wobbly. _Crap._ They're crying. They hastily wipe at their eyes with their free hand.

"I never planned on leaving you. And Dante never planned on... _taking_ me."

"I know," they say, and their voice wavers just slightly. "And, I know that I was the one who... who drove the stake between us, or put up a wall, or _whatever_ ." They sniff, and rub their damp hand on their pant leg, and hold Marco's hand in both of theirs. "And I know you're doing _so much_ better now. You make your own choices. Dante will be there for you, and I’ll be there if you need me, and... most importantly," the thing they've always wanted, even though they've ignored the fact that it's _happening,_ that it's been _the truth_ for so long now, "most importantly, you can look out for yourself."

Neither of them say anything for a long moment, the both of them just watching each other, looking at each other, _seeing_ each other.

"You're... the greatest sibling I could ask for, Stef," Marco says, and he pulls his hand out of theirs, leans in, wraps both arms around Stef's shoulders and pulls them in close. "I love you."

And Stef lets out a choked sob, wraps their arms around their brother, and squeezes as hard as they can.

Maybe things aren't the way they used to be, but they've changed for the better.

Maybe things aren't perfect yet, but they will be.

**Thursday, June 25.**

It's hot out today, hot enough that Gabe's broken out the tank tops and shorts for both himself and for Georgie, but not so hot they're forced to stay inside all day yet. 

The park is still as active as ever, with adults sitting on benches or under trees or jogging down the paths, and kids running and jumping and climbing and shouting as they play. The grass is still green, but only inside of the park proper; the less-tended grass is starting to yellow and brown with the summer heat.

" _Sarah!"_ Georgie shouts suddenly, jolting Gabe out of his thoughts. She's waving her arm in the air, facing the treeline.

_"Hi Georgie!"_ he hears Sarah call back, and he laughs a little.

"Go play," he says. "I'll be in the shade over here."

She runs off to go meet up with her friends, and Gabe leaves the path, heading for a few trees nearby. The grass is cool, if a little damp, he discovers as he sits in the shade. Oh, well. If he gets a damp butt imprint on these shorts, he'll just run through a sprinkler with Georgie or something before they head home. No big deal.

He pulls out his phone, fidgeting with it until he's able to adjust the brightness enough to actually read it. He has a new message from Stef.

> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** hey babe hoWS IT HANGGIGN??

Attached is a selfie of Stef laying on their couch, their hair spread out in a messy halo around them, their hand making a peace sign at the camera. He quickly saves it before replying.

> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** Georgie and I are at the park! It's hot! :'-(
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** NO FORWNY FACES AALLOWED!!! 
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** do youe awnt me to coem punech the sun
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** Yes.

They don't reply immediately, so Gabe opens up his reading app. He's determined to finish this book by the end of the month, but he still has ten chapters left and not a lot of free time, so he might have to admit defeat.

A few minutes later, Stef sends him another picture. He quickly opens it up to reveal a blurry, out of focus image of Stef punching what looks like a yellow circle taped to their wall. He laughs, and saves that one too.

> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** Thank you sweetheart it already feels SO much cooler! :-D
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** !!!!!!!!!!
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** i LOVE it when tyou calll met hat!!!!
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** What, sweetheart?
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** [several weary and blushing emojis] YES!!!!!
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** >:-3c
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** HOW AERE TYOU LITERALLY THE ECUTEST PERSON ALIVE!!!
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** Stef, we've been over this. That's YOU!
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** hang oun i have to come e kiss you right flipppping now
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** No you can't come here!
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** stef: ???
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** stef: why HNOT????
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** It's too cold.
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** TOO COLFD????
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** YOU JUST SAID DIT WAS TOO HOT!!!!
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** Yeah but now it's too cold.
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** WTH????????
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** I'm afraid you may have punched the sun TOO well, Stef. :-(
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** I may very well freeze out here.
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** NOOOOOO OYOU CAN'T FREEZ I WILL SAVE TYOU
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** I'm afraid it's too late for me... Take care of Georgie for me, please...
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** I'M TOO YUNG ADN HIP TO BE A DINGLE PARETN!!
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** Haha. Dingle. 
> 
> **FROM:** **stef✨💖✨:** wow way to ruin the immeresion gabe :/
> 
> **TO:** **stef✨💖✨:** ;-P

"Daddy!" Georgie's voice interrupts Gabe's thoughts again, and he looks up. Georgie and Sarah are both running across the grass toward him, up the gentle incline of the hill. He waves to them and glances back at his phone, startled to realize that nearly forty-five minutes have gone by. 

He stands and pockets his phone just as the girls make it to him, stopping and panting. "Hey, Georgie. Sarah," he says. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Yeah," Georgie says, "'Cause Sarah's parents are waitin' at the other end for her." She takes a gulp of breath, wipes her forehead. "But we had to tell you! Val and the other big kids were here today, an'-- an' they were _mean_ to us!"

Gabe panics, reaching out to Georgie and immediately looking her over. "Are you okay?" he asks. "Did they hurt you? Are they still here? Do you know who their parents are?"

"They didn't hurt us, Mr. Martin!" Sarah pipes up. She's already caught her breath. "They just said a lot of mean things to us. An' then they went out through the woods, so they're gone now."

He relaxes slightly. But only _slightly._ "Next time you see them," he says, "I want you to point them out to me, okay?" He doesn't know what the protocol is for getting a group of teenagers to stop bullying his daughter and her friends--doesn't even know where the line between _teasing_ and _bullying_ lies--but he damn well wants to know who to keep an eye out for on any future excursions. 

"Okay, Daddy."

**Sunday, June 28.**

"You're so _comfy,"_ Stef sighs against his stomach, their arms tightening around his middle. "Like, I prob'ly don't even need a _bed,_ I could just sleep on you all night and I'd wake up _so_ freakin' _refreshed,_ y'know?"

Gabe chuckles, lifting his hand to run his fingers through their damp hair. "Maybe," he says, "but _I_ sure as hell wouldn't be."

Stef huffs, a short blast of warm air against his skin. "We're not talkin' about _you_ here, babe. We're talkin' about _me_."

_"You_ using _me_ as a bed. Something I firmly object to."

_"Fine._ If you're gonna be so adamant about it. I _guess_ I'll sleep in the bed." He feels them shift and stretch, feels them press a quick kiss to his chest. "But only if you're gonna stay here, too."

"Yeah." He relaxes into the pillows behind him, letting his eyes fall closed. "I don't have to be at work 'til nine tomorrow. So we can just sleep. Sleep _in,_ even."

"Just _sleep?"_ Stef lifts their head up from his chest, unwinds their arms from around him and pushes themself up. He opens his eyes to see them hovering over him, a very serious expression on their face. He grins at them as they continue. "You're saying you just want to _sleep_ all night?! Gabe. I thought you invited me to stay the night so we could _snuggle!"_

He laughs, reaching up with both hands to tug them back down against him. "You know people can sleep _and_ snuggle at the same time, right?" he asks. He cups their cheeks in his hands, leans up to kiss them. 

Stef hums into the kiss, relaxing against him. "Gabey, it is only _ten PM._ I'm not sleeping for at _least_ two more hours."

"I thought you had a strict bedtime of eleven?" he teases, running his hand up their back.

They huff again, pressing their face into the crook of his neck. "My summer vacation bedtime is midnight," they mumble, and he laughs.

"Okay, okay, Mx. Snuggles. No sleeping for two more hours. Is this what you wanna spend the whole time doing? Just using me as a bed and kissing me?"

"Yeah," Stef says. "Like I said, you're _comfy!"_

"And you're cute."

"Don't I freaking _know_ it!"

"Your fake swears just make you even cuter."

"That's the real reason I never actually swear. To seduce hot dads."

He hums. "I knew it. You lied to me on our first date!"

"Second date."

"Whatever."

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, with just the sound of their breathing and the occasional kiss to break it. Gabe's more comfortable here, laying spread out on his bed with his datemate sprawled across him, than he thinks he's been in _months._ Even though it's really too hot for two people to be sharing body heat like this, it's... still nice.

"Hey, so," Stef says suddenly, and Gabe realizes he'd been starting to doze off. "I... you remember what I told you, about that talk with Dante, right?"

"Yeah," Gabe says, blinking himself back to full consciousness. It had only been a couple of weeks ago that Stef had been able to take that first step toward making amends with their brother and his fiance, and they'd texted him the highlights that night. "Why, what's up?"

"Well," Stef says. They lever themself up and off of him, rolling onto the bed beside him. He quickly rolls onto his side to face them, and finds them propped up on their elbow, biting their lip. "I've... been thinking. About something he told me."

"What thing?" he asks. They'd mentioned _several_ things from that conversation, including how much he cares about Marco, and the fact that Dante had had a fiancee until very close to his meeting with Marco.

"Well, it...." They sigh, closing their eyes and dropping back onto the pillows, rolling over on their back to stare up at the ceiling. "He said that... maybe I should go to therapy. For my, like... _ugh,_ I don't know, my problems with letting Marco go, I guess?"

"Oh," Gabe says, as he thinks this over. "Well, you _have_ been pretty upset about that." An understatement. "It's probably a good idea, honestly."

"But I don't _need_ a therapist!" they exclaim, too loudly for the quiet of the house. They press their palms over their eyes. "Sorry, _ugh,_ I didn't mean to yell. I just... I don't need a therapist! _Marco_ has a therapist, and I'm-- there's nothing _wrong_ with me, and even if there _is,_ it's nowhere _near_ as bad as _his_ problems!"

"No one said there's anything wrong with you," Gabe reassures them, and then pauses. "Well, I don't know what Dante said, so maybe _he_ said it, but _I_ didn't." He scoots closer, slides an arm under their back to tilt them toward him. They shift, dropping their hands to look at him. He smiles. "You don't have to have something _wrong_ with you to see a therapist, Stef."

"But I don't _need_ one!" they protest. He can see them wavering, though, the way they hold their head, the way their eyes search his face. They want confirmation that it's _okay_ , he thinks, they want _support._ Someone to talk them _into_ it.

"You can just call, make an appointment," he suggests. "If you sit through the whole appointment and you still don't think that it'll help you, then you just don't make another one."

"Maybe," they say. They sigh again, louder this time, more drawn-out. "You don't think it's a stupid idea?"

"No," he says. "If there's a chance it could help you deal with... _problems_ better, then I think it's a good idea."

Stef's quiet for a long time, and Gabe pulls them back to him so that they're both laying on their sides, chest-to-chest, and he runs his fingers up and down their spine, slowly, soothingly.

It's close to midnight when Stef speaks again.

"I'll make an appointment tomorrow," they say. "Thanks, Gabe."

"'Course," he mumbles, half-asleep. 

The last thing he notices before he drifts off to sleep is Stef's low chuckle, and a kiss to the tip of his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there we have it!!!! things are getting better!! things are being FIXED!! problems are being SOLVED!!! 
> 
> thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment. i'd love to hear your thoughts!! 💖
> 
> a little note on my writing/upcoming updates:  
> i have finished writing this fic, and all that needs doing is some last-minute edits. SO. i will be releasing two chapters a month for november and december, which will then CONCLUDE this story! yes that's right, there are only three chapters left!! it'll all be posted by the end of 2020!!  
> i'm participating in nanowrimo this month, so i'll be focusing almost completely on that project. apologies if it takes me longer than usual to reply to your comments!! i promise i'll be reading them as they come in and responding asap!!  
> starting in december, i plan on working on once you go hazy again! i'll be doing some small edits to the chapters that have already been posted, as well as adding in some new scenes, and then i'll get back to posting new chapters! <3  
> i hope you've all enjoyed my work and will continue to do so!! thank you all so much for reading!!! 💖


	12. July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all!! i hope you're doing well today, and if not, i hope you'll be feeling better by the time you get to the end of the chapter! 💖💕
> 
> a HUGE thank you as always to my friend [pink](https://dykemilligram.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this chapter! you two are the best!! 💖💖💖
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: mentions of/references to sex, misgendering, and general mental health issues.

**Saturday, July 4.**

"Daddy, daddy, _daddy,_ can we _please_ get closer?! I wanna sit _real_ close so I can see 'em light the fireworks!"

Gabe puts a hand on Georgie's shoulder, holding her in place. He warily eyes the expanse of sand around them, where the only things flammable are the blankets and towels they've brought out to sit on. "We're staying _right_ here, Georgia Peach. You'll be able to see the fireworks just fine from here."

She pouts at him. "But I wanna _see_ 'em!" she insists. 

On her other side, Dante leans in close. "Better listen to your pops, kiddo," he says. "'Less ya wanna end up like me." He wiggles the fingers of his right hand, which isn't fitted with his usual three prosthetics, so it's just two fingers that wiggle at her. 

Georgie gapes at him and then snaps her mouth closed. She glances away, back toward the area where the fireworks will be lit. "I'm okay with sitting here, Daddy," she says.

"Good," Gabe says, careful not to smile too much. He looks up and over at Dante, who grins at him and winks (well, he _blinks,_ really, with both eyes, but Gabe's pretty sure he's _trying_ to wink, so it's whatever) before turning back to his fiance, with whom he's sharing a beach towel.

Gabe pulls his phone out to check the time. It's 8:47, which means the show will be starting in thirteen minutes, and Stef still isn't here yet! Where _are_ they?

_"Hey!_ Sorry I'm late, gah, can you believe there was _traffic_ on the way here?!" Speak of the devil. Gabe turns toward the voice and grins when he spots Stef in the twilight.

"You made it!" he says, tucking his phone away. He pats the fabric next to him. "Come sit."

"Hi, Stef!" Georgie exclaims as they sit down, immediately leaning against Gabe. "Are fireworks different in California than they are in Oregon? Daddy says he doesn't know and _I_ wanna know!"

Stef laughs, grabbing Gabe's arm and settling it around their shoulders. He doesn't mind at all. "I have no idea," they say apologetically. "I've never been to Oregon!"

"Aw." Georgie sags against Gabe's other side, and he laughs, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling them both close to him in a hug. 

"Guess you'll just have to find out yourself, huh kiddo?"

"I guess." She sighs as she snuggles against him. "I didn't get to see fireworks last year 'cause we were busy gettin' ready to move an' no one could take me! So I had to watch 'em on TV. It wasn't as good as seein' 'em in person, 'specially since they kept showin' people singin' instead of showin' the _fireworks._ " She pauses. "Stef did you know that I'm gonna be ten years old in nineteen days?!"

"Yes, I do," Stef says. "What are your birthday plans this year?"

_"Well,"_ she says, pulling out of Gabe's grip so she can gesture appropriately as she speaks, "I'm gonna go visit my dad an' Jason, so I'll be in Oregon! I'm gonna invite _all_ my old friends to a pool party! An' my dad an' Jason an' my gramma an' my grampa'll be there, too! An' Dad says I can invite _five_ of my friends to get pizza an' ice cream later!"

"That sounds like fun!" Stef says. "Pizza and ice cream are the _best._ I envy you and your friends."

By this time, it's noticeably darker out. The people around them are just silhouettes, for the most part.

"Oh," says Dante, and Gabe feels Stef flinch slightly before relaxing again. They're getting better at accepting Dante's presence in their life. "Shit, check it out, they're about to start!"

"Language, please," Gabe reminds him for the fifth time this evening. Not that it matters too much; Gabe swears a lot around Georgie (mostly on accident), but he always reminds her that she shouldn't say those words until she's older. He's a little worried that hearing the same words from another adult will reinforce the idea that it's okay to swear, and he does _not_ want to deal with frantic calls home from her school next year.

"Daddy, _look,_ " Georgie breathes, and he can see exactly what she's talking about. Farther out in the sandy expanse, a light appears--a flame, which moves and grows and starts to send out _sparks._

"Gonna be a good one," Dante says, and the words are barely out of his mouth before the firework takes off into the air, leaving a dark trail of smoke across the sky before it breaks apart with a loud _pop!_ The firework shines in the air like a golden sunburst, illuminating the crowd around them for just a few moments before fading away.

The crowd cheers, Georgie screaming directly into his ear in excitement.

Gabe tugs Stef with him to lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky as the show continues.

"Do you come out here every year?" he asks, feeling around until he finds Stef's hand and squeezes it. 

"Nah," they reply. "This is only my second year here. First time was the first year we moved here." They squeeze his hand in return, snuggling up against him. "It's nice, though. I kinda forgot how much fun it is to go see fireworks with your favorite people."

A firework screams into the air above them, bursting apart in a flash of blue and red.

"I've taken Georgie to see the fireworks every year since she was three," he says, "except for last year, unfortunately. It never gets old, especially when you've got a kid with you."

"I'll believe that," Stef says. "Kids' excitement for everything is contagious, y'know? That's definitely a perk of being a teacher."

Gabe hums in reply. A red firework explodes in the air above them, followed shortly by another golden one. He wonders, briefly, how Stef feels about kids--about _a_ kid--older than their usual demographic. Wonders how they'd do dealing with a teen. But he doesn't ask that, doesn't say anything about it. There's still plenty of time to wonder.

The fireworks are beautiful, and Gabe loves every minute he spends under the stars with his favorite people.

**Wednesday, July 8.**

The local community pool had finally opened up for the season, and Stef's been _dying_ to take a dip.

"I didn't get to go last year," they tell Gabe as the three of them (Gabe, Georgie, and of course themself) head into the building. 

"Yeah, I haven't been swimming in _ages,"_ Gabe says. "Usually too busy to go. Hopefully we're early enough today that it won't be too crowded."

The lobby is empty except for themselves and the clerk who takes their money and passes them their locker keys, so with luck they'll have the pool mostly to themselves.

"Can you go ahead and make sure no one's changing?" Gabe asks as they head for the locker room. Stef glances down at Georgie, who's clutching her little bag close to herself and looking up at the sealife mural that makes up half the walls in here.

"Yeah, hang on." Stef hurries on ahead and peers into the locker room, which, as with the lobby, seems to be empty. They give Gabe a thumbs up. "All safe for little eyes!" they say.

Gabe takes Georgie over to the bathroom stalls to change, and Stef heads right over to the lockers, stripping and tossing their clothes inside before slipping on their little pink swim shorts. Normally they might be a little more conservative with their appearance, even here, in case they run into any parents, but they've decided that they deserve a little freedom. 

"Gabe?" they call, as they grab their sheer wrap from their bag and slip it on, too. "You two ready?"

"Not yet!" Georgie calls, followed shortly by Gabe's, "Go on ahead, we'll meet you out there!"

"Okay!" Stef calls back. They head out the exit and step into the morning sunlight. There are a few people in the pool, most of them seemingly focusing on exercising and minding their own business. Perfect.

They set themself up on a lounge chair situated near the locker room exit and settle a pair of sunglasses on their nose, reclining comfortably in the sun as they wait. They look sexy as heck; everyone can see it, Stef knows. When Gabe comes out he's gonna be _so_ taken aback by how goshdarn _sexy_ they look.... Heck yeah.

The door behind them opens, and Stef turns their head toward it, lowering their sunglasses so they can see over the top. 

Georgie comes out first, with bright orange floaties on her arms and a snorkel and goggles in her hands. She grins at them. "I'm gonna swim _so_ fast," she says. "Last year I beat all my friends in a race. Well, except Jeremy, but Jeremy's mama is a swim coach, so he doesn't count. I'm gonna beat my record this year! D'you wanna race me?!"

They laugh, reaching out to pat her cheek. "Maybe in a little bit," they say. "For now, I'm just gonna enjoy the sun."

"Okay," she says, and heads for the pool. "See ya later, Stef!"

"Have fun!" they call to her.

"If you take her up on her challenge," Gabe says from behind them, "don't hold back. She'll never let you live it down if you let her win."

They laugh again, turning toward him. "I'll keep that in min--" they stop as they lay eyes on Gabe, their brain short-circuiting, because oh _holy heck_ does he look good!

Gabe's got his hair tucked up into a messy bun on top of his head, which is how he usually wears it around the kitchen, but _here_ , freshly put up and not soaked with sweat and matted against his scalp, it looks utterly _perfect._

He's wearing the most shockingly neon swim trunks Stef's ever seen, electric blue and lemon yellow with hot pink accents in a crazy pattern, and above that, he's wearing _a bright orange and pink bikini top._

They'd expected him to cover up his chest today, because he'd mentioned once that he doesn't really feel comfortable being shirtless in public, for gender reasons, but they'd expected him to wear, like, a _T-shirt_ or something, not _one of the sexiest articles of clothing known to humankind!_

"Are you okay?" Gabe asks, breaking them out of their reverie, and there's laughter in his voice.

Stef's eyes snap to his, and they say, "I am _perfect,_ thank you, and so are _you!"_ They set their sunglasses down and get out of their seat as quickly as possible so they can face him, hands on their hips. "How _dare_ you show me up when _I'm_ supposed to be the prettiest person in the room!"

Gabe quirks an eyebrow at them, and pointedly looks around at the scenery for a moment before looking back at them. "In the room?" he asks, smirking. "We're outside."

They roll their eyes, folding their arms over their chest. "You _know_ what I mean!" they say.

He laughs, leans in to give them a quick kiss. "You're the prettiest person here," he reassures them. "I'm just the sexiest."

They gape at him when he steps away. _"Excuse_ me?!" They pause. They snort. "Okay, you're right. I'm very cool with being half of the prettiest and sexiest couple at the pool."

Gabe tucks his arm around their waist. "Me, too," he says. "But no one's gonna acknowledge us as such if we're just standin' around by the locker room door."

"Daddy!" Georgie calls, and they both turn toward the pool to find her in the middle of it, waving at them. "Stef! Come _swim!"_

"You can swim, right?" Gabe asks.

They look up at him. "Yeah?" they say.

"Well?"

"Well what? Like am I _good_ at swimming? Yeah, I think so. _Why?"_

"Cool. So, if I were to... say...." Gabe suddenly scoops them up into his arms, making them squeal, "toss you into the deep end, you'd be fine with that?"

They laugh again as he carries them around the edge of the pool toward the deep end. "Yeah," they say. "But only if I get to push you in later!"

"Deal," he says, and tosses them in.

Stef hits the water with a yelp and sinks quickly, the sounds around them fading into the dull roar of water in their ears. They kick and claw their way back to the surface and take a big gulp of air, blinking water from their eyes as they look up at Gabe, still standing on the edge of the pool, laughing. He looks _so happy,_ and so... _perfect._

"Throw me, throw me!" Georgie calls, swimming up next to Stef and raising her arms up to Gabe. "Daddy, throw _me!"_

Gabe leans down and helps Georgie out of the water with what seems like almost _no_ effort, and he picks her up much as he had Stef. "Ready?" he asks, and when she exclaims an affirmative, he tosses her back in.

The morning is full of laughter and splashing, and Stef never wants it to end.

**Sunday, July 12.**

Gabe's working in the kitchen today. It's something he doesn't get to do quite as often anymore, so he tries to savor it. He loves the process of cooking, from selecting the best ingredients for a dish, to chopping them up into perfectly-sized pieces, to throwing everything into a pan and listening to the hiss and sizzle, to plating everything as pleasingly as possible. He takes pride in his abilities, and he loves the specific brand of exhaustion that settles in his bones after a day spent in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, as the owner of Jet Star's Diner, Gabe's the one who has to handle all the paperwork, making sure all the bills get paid and inventory arrives on time and all that stuff. It's his least favorite part of the business, and something he ends up spending most of his time doing. Maybe soon he'll be able to hire someone to do the accounting or some other part of the administrative process, and he can get back to cooking more often. Yeah, that seems like a pretty good goal to work toward.

It's crazy to think that the diner will have been open for a whole year next month. It feels like he's only been in this town for a month or two... and at the same time, it feels like a lifetime.

Shit, should he plan a celebration or a sales event or something for next month? Is that a thing you're supposed to do as a business owner? Host an event on the one-year anniversary of your grand opening? Well, maybe he will. His staff would probably like something festive, as long as it doesn't equal too much extra work for them. Or, oh, maybe he could give them a little extra in their paychecks next month, as a gift? It'd set him back a little in his accountant-hiring goal, but that's okay.

Gabe's deep in thought and wrist-deep in a pile of ground beef when Lola suddenly bursts into the kitchen through the back door, Georgie in tow.

"Gabe!" Lola gasps, alarm in her voice. Gabe is instantly on high alert, turning toward the two of them and narrowly avoiding sending the hamburger tumbling to the ground. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, stripping off his gloves and stepping toward them. Georgie's standing beside Lola in the doorway, her eyes hard and her jaw set. 

"I didn't do anything wrong!" she says. Her hand is still caught in Lola's own. 

"Who said you did something wrong?" Gabe asks. He looks at Lola, feeling helpless and confused; she shakes her head.

"Georgie got in a fight on the playground," she says. "I didn't see what happened before, but--"

"I punched Val in the face!" Georgie exclaims, holding her chin high. "He wouldn't stop _botherin'_ me an' Sarah, not even when I told him to knock it off, so I punched him!"

Gabe stares at her. He's never known Georgie to be _violent._ Not that he--! Not that he has anything against his daughter standing up to _bullies,_ no, but--he just. He just-- "You _punched_ a _teenager?"_ he asks. "I. What. You--why?"

"I _told_ you," Georgie says, yanking her hand out of Lola's to cross her arms over her chest. "He was makin' fun of us, so I--"

"You punched him. Georgie. I. Why didn't you get an adult? Lola was there, and there are-- there should be _other_ adults there. Sarah's parents!"

"Yeah, but if I'd gotten Lola or someone then he still wouldn't'a left us alone _next_ time!" Georgie says. "Sam said the best way to get 'im to leave us alone was to punch him so he knows he can't pick on us!"

"You--wait. _Sam_ told you to punch him?" He looks at Lola again, who looks just as dumbfounded as he feels.

"Yeah! They said they'd punch him themself but they didn't wanna get in trouble an' go back into the system." Georgie frowns. "I dunno what that means, 'cause they didn't tell me, but they taught me how to throw a punch, an' it worked _real_ good, Daddy. I don't think Val's gonna bother us again."

"Georgie," Gabe says, still trying to wrap his head around everything. "I need you to go sit in my office while I talk to Lola for a few minutes."

"Fine," she sighs, and exits the kitchen, dragging her feet the whole way.

Gabe ushers Lola back outside, and the two of them stare at each other for a long moment before Lola says, "I didn't know Sam had told her anything _like_ that!"

"It's okay, Lola, I'm sure we can figure this out." He shakes his head. "I mean, I can't say I blame Georgie for this, but I really don't know if I should punish her or call the kid's parents or _what._ And... _Sam..."_

"Do you think Sam doesn't talk to me and Kai because they're afraid we'll send them back?" Lola asks abruptly. She's nibbling on her lower lip, wearing away at the sparkly lipgloss there. "I mean, we would _never,_ we know they came from some really awful situation and we wanna give them some, like, _stability_ especially for these last couple years of school, but like, does _Sam_ know that? Oh my god, _Gabe,_ what if Sam doesn't tell us anything because they think we're just gonna, like, ship them off to some other family or whatever?!" 

"Whoa, whoa, Lola." He reaches up and puts his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "It's okay. I have no idea what's going through Sam's head," he says. It's not like the kid talks to him, either. The only people Sam seems interested in, as far as Gabe can tell, are Georgie and Stef, and they never _talk_ to Stef so much as _watch them from a distance._ He has less experience with them than Lola does. "Maybe you can talk to them now?" he suggests. "Ask them if that's the reason, explain to them that you have no intention of sending them anywhere, no matter what? Unconditional love, and all that."

"Right." Lola takes a breath, shoulders relaxing. "Yeah, yeah I have to talk to them." She shakes her head, then smiles at Gabe, bright and blinding as ever. "Thanks, Gabe! Um, for Georgie, I think maybe just talk to her, too? Maybe, like, talk about some alternatives to punching, or whatever."

"That sounds like an idea." He'd rather not punish his kid for defending herself against a bully, anyway. "And if you manage to coax some understanding from Sam, could you ask them _not_ to advise my almost-ten-year-old-daughter to punch a teenager? This could have gone _way_ worse."

She snorts. "Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks for your help, Gabe!" She pulls him into a sudden tight hug, and he's suddenly enveloped in the fruity scent of her perfume. She releases him before he can do more than pat her back, still grinning. "I'll see you when I pick Georgie up tomorrow! Bye, Gabe!"

"Bye, Lola," he replies automatically, watching her make her way to her car. Then he sighs to himself and turns to go back inside. 

He's got some parenting to do.

**Wednesday, July 15.**

"I need more brown markers," Georgie tells Stef. "Jason bought me a pack that had 8 different browns last year, but I used 'em all up an' now we can't find anything 'cept this dark brown." She holds up a brown Crayola marker for them to see.

The two of them are sharing a booth in the diner this afternoon. Stef had come in about a half hour ago for a late lunch, and Georgie, who had been sitting in her usual out-of-the-way booth, had called them over.

Stef looks at the marker, then down at the picture she's drawing. It looks to be a desert landscape, and she's had to use yellow and orange to make up for the lack of appropriate shades of brown. "I can see why that would be a problem," they say. "Maybe you could use colored pencil or crayon for some of the other shades."

She sighs and goes back to coloring. "I guess," she says. "But I like markers better'n the others. I miss my brown markers. I could draw me, an' Daddy, an' Sarah, an' Jason, an' Shaw an' Bunny an' Himari an' everybody else! With this one I can only draw _me,_ an' it's not as fun."

"I'm sorry, kiddo," Stef says. Her birthday's coming up soon, right? Later this month, around the same time as Marco's. They can probably find her something. As long as Gabe doesn't forbid all markers except Crayola or whatever, it shouldn't be hard at all. They can ask Simon for some suggestions, probably. He uses markers sometimes....

"Marco! Dante!" Georgie jumps up, startling them as she slides out of the booth and scampers away. Stef twists around in their seat to see the aforementioned Marco and Dante heading this way.

"Hey, kid," Dante says, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "Fancy seein' _you_ here. Out for lunner too, huh? Heh."

"I _live_ here," Georgie tells him, and her back's to Stef, but they can still hear that she's sticking her tongue out at him. "What's lunner?"

"Combination lunch an' dinner," Marco says. "What adults eat when they forget lunch and get too hungry to wait for dinner. Hey, Stef."

"Hey, Marco," Stef replies, grinning, and they carefully turn that grin to Dante, as well. "And Dante! Hey, I didn't know you two were comin' here today."

Marco shrugs. "Got done at therapy, pastries weren't enough to cure my hunger, here I am. Can we sit with you?"

"Sure," Stef says, at the same time Georgie exclaims, _"Yes!"_

The two of them move their things (Georgie's art supplies, Stef's plate and mug) over, and Marco slides in beside Stef, while Dante sits with Georgie. It's comfortable.

Well, mostly. There's still a little awkwardness between Marco and themself, something they're sure can only really be cured with time. And, although they're definitely _trying_ to get along with Dante, there's still some animosity between them, even though it's mostly one-sided.

Still, it's better to be here with all of them than alone in their apartment, ignoring their friends' texts and calls. They never want to go back to that, if they can help it.

"So, are you comin', Stef?"

"Huh?" They blink up at Marco, who's giving them a bemused look. "Sorry, I wasn't payin' attention."

"Won't that make ya lose participation points, Teach?" Dante asks with a laugh, and Georgie giggles beside him.

They roll their eyes. "We're not in _school,"_ Stef says. "It's summer. Classroom rules don't apply in the summer, do they kiddo?"

"Nope!" she says. "School is kinda fun, but I like summer better. Me an' Sarah an' Ava an' Benson are all workin' on a comic together!" She pushes her page toward Dante, who looks it over very seriously.

Stef turns their full attention back to Marco, who's now watching Dante with a fond expression. They try not to think about how they'd tried to keep that small, deep happiness from him, and instead ask, "So what were you sayin', Marco?"

"Hm?" Marco turns back to Stef. "Oh. I was askin' if you were comin' over for my birthday."

"Yeah, of _course_ I am!" they exclaim. "I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

His smile is soft and small, but definitely there. "Great," he says. "Dante just got a grill. Thought it'd be fun to test it out with a bunch of our friends and stuff. So. Uh. I'll text ya the time?"

"Definitely." They grin at him, reach over and squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. 

"Wait, Marco, is _your_ birthday this month?!" Georgie interjects. 

Marco looks back over at her and nods. "Yup. July twenty-second. Why?"

Georgie slams her hands on the table, leaning as far over it as she can (which, being a little less than four feet tall, isn't very far). _"Your_ birthday is on _July twenty-second?_ _Mine_ is on _July twenty-third!"_

Marco's smile creeps upward. "Really?" he asks. "Wow, what are the odds. Guess we're birthday buddies."

"Birthday buddies!" Georgie exclaims, laughing. "Did you know, you're the _only_ person I've _ever_ met who has a birthday in the same month as me?!"

"Am I?" Marco asks. "Wow, that's pretty good. Guess we really _are_ birthday buddies."

Georgie laughs again, and Stef's attention is drawn to Dante, who's wearing an expression similar to Marco's as he watches their brother. It makes him look... softer. His eyes lit up, his mouth set in a slight smile. He looks like he _loves_ Marco.

_I tried to take that away from them._

Dante catches them looking and immediately screws up his face, sticking his tongue out at them and looking away. His eyes widen then, and then his mouth spreads into a cocky grin. "Hey, Shaw!" he says. "Finally get around to takin' our order, huh?"

"Oh, you're actually using my _name_ today, hm?" Shaw asks as ae skates up to the table. "Usually you-- _oh,_ that's why. Hello, Georgie! Are these rude people bothering you, darling?"

"Nope!" she says happily. "Marco an' me are birthday buddies! An' Dante says my comics're the best he's ever seen!"

"Aw," Shaw coos, and Dante rolls his eyes, looking at Marco, who snorts out a little laugh at him. Dante can't catch a break, apparently. Heh. "Well, can I get either of you softies anything to drink? Steffie, darling, you need a refill or anything?"

They all sit together for probably longer than is appropriate to take up space in a restaurant, but Stef can't bring themself to worry about it, especially since they know their boyfriend doesn't mind.

When they finally leave, Stef feels like they've accomplished something, somehow.

**Saturday, July 18.**

The pool is busier today, full of kids and their parents and adults just trying to get their laps in. 

Since it's so full, Gabe and Stef sit at the edge of the pool while Georgie swims. He's keeping an eye on her while the two of them talk, looking up every few seconds to scan the near-literal sea of faces for his daughter. 

"Like, on the one hand I'm glad that they switched the meetings and stuff to online-only," Stef's saying, "'Cause it's _such_ a pain to get up at like 4:30 in the morning _in the summer_ just to go hang out in an overly air-conditioned meeting room with like eleven other teachers and learn the latest teaching stuff, y'know? _Ugh,_ and they _always_ misgender me at those things, too. They're always like 'oh, we're LGBTQ-friendly!' but they _always_ use the wrong title and pronouns. At least this _school_ takes gender stuff seriously." They sigh. "...Wait, where was I?"

"You're glad the meetings are online now," Gabe says, watching as Georgie eggs another kid into a race.

"Right, yeah! So, like, I'm _glad_ about it 'cause of aforementioned things. But _also,_ now that Marco's moved out, I'm frickin' _lonely_ in that apartment all the time! I wouldn't mind goin' a couple towns over for a class once a week. But _instead,_ I just hafta clear a couple hours of my day to sit in front of my computer an' nod along to what people are sayin'. It's so _boring!"_ Stef groans.

Gabe looks over at them just as they fling their head back with a sigh. The early-afternoon sun shines down on them, highlighting the fading red and the dark roots of their hair. Stef has more freckles than they did this time last month. He leans over and kisses one of them, high on their cheek. They giggle.

"If you're so bored in the house alone," Gabe says, straightening back up and looking back at the pool for Georgie (she's treading water in the deep end now, having a conversation with a group of kids her age), "you can always come be bored in the diner with some other people around. Or invite your friends someplace."

"Yeah," Stef says, and they lay their head against his arm, "but everyone has more goin' on in the summer than I do. Everyone else has jobs that're year-'round, y'know, 'cept Simon and Manami. But Simon likes to focus on his art, and Manami and Rosana travel a lot. What I'm _gettin'_ at is that I miss havin' a live-in friend in Marco, y'know?" They sigh again. "I miss livin' with Shaw, too. _Ugh,_ I just. I'm not good at bein' _alone."_

"I know what you mean," Gabe tells them. Well, maybe he doesn't _exactly_ know, but.... "I lived with Damien for almost six years, from graduation 'til after we got divorced. Even when I moved out, it was just down the street, and I spent more time with him and Georgie and Jason than I did at my own place. And... well, now it's just me and Georgie, of course, but she's still _a person._ When she goes to visit her dad, or even just spends the night at a friend's, it's... tough." He shakes his head, looks to the pool. Georgie's still talking to her friends, but they've moved to the side of the pool now, holding on to the edge instead of treading water.

"I just gotta get used to it, I guess," Stef says. They move against him, and he glances over to see them rubbing their eye with the palm of their hand. 

"Yeah," Gabe says. He nudges them, and they look up at him. He smiles. "Seriously, though, you can always come to the diner. I won't even make you buy a meal. You can just hang out, talk to Georgie or Shaw or Bunny or me, if I'm up front."

They smile back at him. "Thanks, Gabe," they say. "That sounds nice."

Georgie's swimming again, a couple of her friends tagging along.

Ugh, he's gonna miss her while she's gone.

**Tuesday, July 21.**

"When's he gonna be here?!" Georgie asks, bouncing in place as she peers out the living room window. Gabe stifles a sigh and sets down his mug of coffee.

"Soon, kiddo," he says. "You know it takes him a while to drive the long way here."

"Do you think Jason'll come with him?" she asks. "I miss Jason. Almost as much as I miss Dad." 

"No, Jason has to work today," he tells her. "You'll probably see him this afternoon."

"Are you _sure_ it'll be okay to leave my markers here?" Georgie asks, without moving from where she's knelt in front of the window. "What if Dad doesn't have the right colors? This is a _comic_ , Daddy, not just _drawings_ , so the characters an' the backgrounds _have_ to be the same colors on _every_ page, or it'll be _wrong_."

"Your markers are better off here," Gabe tells her for probably the billionth time this week. "Your dad still has the set he bought you for Christmas over there, and if you take these ones there, you might lose them. You'll be _fine_ , Georgia Peach."

His phone _dings_ from its place on the table, and he sips his coffee as he reaches for it. It's not a text from Damien, like he'd been hoping, but it IS a text from Stef, so he's not complaining about it.

> ** FROM: stef✨💖✨:** babee i just saw your ex huysband BLAST theourgh a yellow light
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Damien go ZOOM :-)
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Wait where are you?
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** And don't text while driving!

He doesn't receive a reply immediately, so he figures they're actually focusing on the road. He sets his phone down and turns his attention back to Georgie at the window, and takes another drink of his coffee.

It's maybe a minute later that Georgie suddenly gasps and jumps to her feet in the way that only children can manage. "He's here, he's here!" she exclaims. She rushes to grab her little yellow backpack, and Gabe stands up too, with much less bounce in his step, to pick up her suitcase for her. 

Damien's just getting out of his car when Gabe opens the door, and Georgie rushes to him, her arms spread wide. 

"Dad!" she shrieks, and he catches her in his arms, lifting her up and spinning her around. 

"My favorite little pumpkin pie!" Damien exclaims, hugging her tight before setting her back on her feet. "Well, not so little anymore. Did you grow _another_ inch since I saw you last? Jeez, you're gonna be taller than me in no time!" He looks up at Gabe then and waves. "Gabe! Come say hi, why don't you?!"

Gabe laughs, coming down the steps with Georgie's suitcase in hand. "Hey, Dami," he says. "How was the drive? Need a break before you get back on the road?"

"Drive was fine," he says. "I love watching the scenery change from forest to desert. It's hot as _hell_ here, though! Like, literal hell. Oh, you can just put your things in the backseat, baby girl. Can't stay long, Gabe, it's a hell of a drive here and back." He gives Gabe an apologetic look. "Sorry. Sometime soon I'll see about gettin' Jason out here, too. Maybe stay a whole week. I feel like there's so much we just can't _do_ together when there's a screen between us." He sighs.

"Hey, looks like I got here in time to see ya off!" Stef calls, and the three of them all look over to see them meandering over from the diner parking lot.

"Well, well, _well,"_ says Damien. "If it isn't Mx. Campbell once again! How ya doin'?"

"Pretty good," Stef says. " it's nice to see you again!" Once they're close enough, they hover next to Gabe and glance between him and Damien, as though they're... not sure about something? Gabe reaches over and takes Stef's hand in his own, gently pulling them closer to him. 

"Hi, Stef!" Georgie says, bouncing on her toes next to her dad, whose own hand is grasped in hers. "I didn't think you were coming!"

"Like I'd miss the chance to say goodbye to my favorite kiddo," they say, and Gabe's heart practically _melts._ He loves it when Stef expresses actual _fondness_ for Georgie. It's a good sign.

Damien's got that mischievous glint in his eye. "You two aren't gonna cause any trouble while Georgie's outta town, are you?" he asks, mock-seriously. "I know she's the one who keeps you in line. Big Boss Georgie."

Gabe feels Stef stiffen slightly beside him, and he squeezes their hand, rolling his eyes. "So what if we do?" he asks. "You encourage any and all trouble. You're a mischief-maker. You're gonna _encourage_ our _daughter_ to cause as much trouble as possible!"

"This is true," Damien says, breaking into a wide grin. Stef relaxes beside him, and he squeezes their hand again. "I _love_ trouble." 

Georgie giggles beside him.

"Speaking of trouble," Stef says, a little slowly, "couldn't help but see you hightailin' it through that intersection a couple blocks back."

Damien stares at them for a moment, and then laughs again. "You saw that, huh? Can't be helped! Had to get to my little munchkin as fast as I could! Say, Gabe, how come you're havin' your datemate spy on me, _hmm?"_

Gabe snorts. "I think it's less about us spying on you and more about you being so conspicuous," he says. "You better not drive that recklessly with Georgie in the car."

"The light was _yellow!_ And as _if_ I'd _ever_ do anything even _remotely_ risky with such precious cargo!" Damien looks down at her. "Speaking of, sweetums, I think we'd better hit the road if we wanna be back before bedtime." 

"Okay!" Georgie releases his hand and darts forward; Gabe catches her, leaning down and squeezing her in a tight hug.

"Be good for your Dad and for Jason, okay?" he says. "And have a good time. I'll call you tomorrow and again on your birthday, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." She pulls back and stretches up to kiss his cheek. _God,_ he's gonna miss her.

Then she steps over to Stef, hugging their waist. "Bye, Stef," she says. "Make sure Daddy doesn't get too lonely, okay?"

"I'll... do my best," Stef tells her, leaning down to hug her, as well. They look a little misty-eyed, and Gabe can't blame them.

Damien says his goodbyes, with a pointed look that Gabe _knows_ means he wants even _more_ details about his love life (which Gabe does not necessarily feel inclined to provide), and then they're off, leaving Gabe and Stef alone in the dusty parking lot.

"You've got a pretty good kid, Gabe Martín," Stef says, and Gabe chuckles, wrapping his arm around their shoulders and pressing a kiss to their warm, freckled cheek.

"Yeah," he says. "I really do."

**Wednesday, July 22.**

Stef hitches a ride to Marco's birthday party with Gabe, . 

"So, what'd you get to celebrate my baby bro's birth?" they ask after giving Gabe directions to Marco's and Dante's house. 

"I made him a pie," Gabe says with a smile. "The kind he likes, lemon pie." He sighs. "I swear I don't mean to give food to everyone for every holiday and birthday! It's just what makes the most sense to me at any given time."

Stef snorts, reaches over and pats his arm. "Don't worry, Gabey," they say. "Marco _loves_ food."

Dante meets them at the front door when they arrive.

"Hey," he says. "Everyone's out back. C'mon, follow me."

He takes them through the kitchen (how the heck is _Dante's_ kitchen nicer than _theirs?_ ) and down a short hallway to a screen door, through which sounds of conversation and laughter drift. Dante pushes the door open with his hip and steps outside, holding it open for them to follow suit. 

"Hey, Marco!" he calls. "Your sibling and the cool guy are here!"

"I'm cool?" Gabe mutters beside them, and Stef snorts, nudging him with their elbow.

The back yard is actually pretty nice. It's fenced in, and the fence itself looks pretty nice, aside from the fact that the old, faded green paint is peeling off in several places. The ground alternates between concrete, stone, and grass that doesn't look to have been cut in a good, long while. There's a shed over in one corner, and a grill set up on a patch of concrete off to the side. There's a few chairs on another patch of concrete and in the grass, and people scattered around the yard.

Stef spots Simon and Madhavi laying in the grass together (Madhavi waves to them--or maybe just to Gabe--before turning her attention back to Simon). Lola and Kai sit nearby, in a couple of chairs. Shaw and Marco are both standing near the grill, which is definitely emitting some smoke (is that normal? No one seems concerned, but maybe they don't notice? Should Stef point out that it's smoking?).

Marco waves them over then, and Stef and Gabe both make their way over to him, leaving Dante to close the door behind them. 

"You made it," Marco says with a little smile. Aw, wow, he's _happy._ "Oh, no Georgie?"

Gabe shakes his head. "She went to visit her dad for a couple weeks," he says, and definitely doesn't sound too thrilled about it. Not that Stef can blame him for that, of course. "Oh--here." He holds out the cardboard box he'd brought over from the diner. "Happy birthday. Made you a pie. Uh. Hope that's okay."

Marco's eyes light up as he takes it and pops it open to peer inside. "Lemon," he says. "This is great. Thanks, Gabe." He raises his voice and calls, "Dante! Put this somewhere the bugs can't get it, yeah?"

The birthday party consists mostly of everyone hanging out in the yard while Dante and Marco take turns tending to the grill (which is _supposed_ to smoke, Gabe assures them). It's nice, honestly. Relaxing, and fun to hang out with everyone. 

Stef learns that Lola's a childhood friend of Dante's, that Kai refuses to use any phone smarter than a flip phone, that Gabe can outlift Madhavi at bench-presses but that she _far_ outranks him at squats. 

The hamburgers Marco and Dante serve up aren't exactly _gourmet,_ but they're still delicious, and Stef enjoys them all the more for having their friends surrounding them.

Sam appears from somewhere when the food is served and eats a bit away from everyone else, eyes boring into Stef. Why don't they stare at _someone else? Anyone_ else?

But no one else seems to even notice, so Stef tries their best to focus on their food and on the conversation.

"I've gotta get going," Gabe says after dessert has come and gone. "Sorry, ha, sorry to bow out early, but you know, I can only take so much time off."

"You need to hire more people!" Dante calls to him as he stands and brushes himself off.

Gabe laughs. "Maybe when we start turning a bigger profit! For now, duty calls." He bends to kiss Stef's cheek, waves to everyone, and then he's gone.

And suddenly Stef feels awkward and alone. Which is _ridiculous,_ because they're _surrounded_ by most of their favorite people. But they're... still not completely _normal_ after everything that went on the last few months, and they miss Gabe's comforting presence at their side.

"Hey," comes a whisper at their side, and they turn sharply in their seat to find Sam standing at their elbow. "Can I talk to you? For a minute?"

"Uh," says Stef, who's both startled and kind of _scared_ of this kid. Sam's been watching them like a _hawk_ for the better part of three months, and only _now_ do they wanna talk? "Okay?"

Sam takes a step back, gesturing for them to follow. Stef, at a loss for anything else, follows them.

They lead Stef off to another part of the yard, in the shade of a couple of trees in one corner. Stef glances back at the table to make sure that everyone's still in sight in case anything happens. This is _so_ weird. From what Stef's heard from Simon and from Gabe and from Georgie, and from what Stef's seen _themself,_ Sam isn't a very talkative kid, usually going out of their way to _not_ talk to anyone, including their foster parents.

So why _Stef,_ and why _now?_

"So, uh," says Sam, drawing their attention back. Instead of staring at Stef as they've grown used to, Sam is looking down, scuffing their shoe in the dirt. Stef can't even see their face, really; just the bright strawberry-shaped hat atop their head, contrasting sharply with the dull colors of the rest of their outfit. "How long have you known you were nonbinary?"

Stef can't bring themself to reply right away, too startled. Despite having _no idea_ what Sam wanted, somehow _this_ still isn't what they had expected. "Um," they say, after a long, awkward moment, "high school, I think? When I was fourteen."

"Oh," Sam says. "That's cool. ...When did you come out?"

"Pretty much as soon as I realized it," Stef says. 

"And everyone was... cool with it?"

"Well, my brother was. And my friends-- well, Shaw especially." Stef had been pretty popular in high school, but only _after_ they'd come out, when a couple of the popular girls had seen fit to "adopt" them. Before that, they'd really only _had_ their brother and Shaw, and a couple of acquaintances. "My parents weren't, though."

"Oh." Sam glances up then, staring them directly in the eye in a way that's no longer... _unnerving,_ but instead... _hopeful?_ "And people... your friends, and people at work, and random people you meet. They all just... call you they/them?"

"Well, no," Stef says. "I'm lucky, in a lot of ways. For one thing, I naturally look pretty androgynous, so more open-minded people are more likely to ask for my pronouns instead of just guessing at it. For another thing, this town is pretty LGBT-friendly. If I lived practically anywhere else, I'd get misgendered all the time, probably have to use some suffix other than _Mx._ " They glance over to the table again, catch Simon watching them (he gives them a thumbs-up, for some reason). They turn back to Sam. "And, well, I've just got good friends who're willing to correct other people and intimidate them into using the right pronouns and that kind of thing."

"Oh," Sam says, and for some reason they seem to _deflate._ "So... it's nothing you _do?_ It's just... luck?"

"Sort of," Stef says. "I mean, I had to deal with a _lot_ of crap growing up. I still _do,_ sometimes." That doesn't seem to help the kid at all. "But a lot of what I have, I had to work for. Correcting people who misgendered me, refusing to be disrespected." They think back to this last Christmas, when they'd let their parents walk all over them until Marco had shut them down. "Well, sometimes I still need help with that one. But that's part of it, too: I don't keep people in my life who don't accept _me._ " Dang, even the guy they can't _stand,_ and who barely tolerates _them_ in return, Korse, has never once called them anything but their correct pronouns. With their parents out of their life now... it seems like the only people they have to worry about are rude parents who picked the wrong town to settle down and have kids in. "This is a good town," they say, more to themself than to Sam now, "full of good people."

"Okay," Sam says. They look... not _cheerful,_ now, their eyebrows still drawn together and their jaw firmly set, but they seem... calmer, maybe? "Thanks. Uh. That... helps a lot."

"Why did you come to me about this?" Stef asks. "I'm sure there's plenty of other people over at that table that could answer those questions."

"You're the only adult I know who uses they/them, too," Sam says. "I just... I dunno. I wanted to know what it was like. People used to tell me it was a phase and I'd grow out of it when I got older." Their voice turns hard, and their scowl deepens, and they look away. "I never saw adults who were like me, so I thought maybe they were right. But... _you're_ an adult. You're nonbinary. So, I can be a nonbinary adult, too."

"Yeah," Stef says, and they can't help but smile at Sam, even though Sam is now, for some reason, _pointedly_ not looking at them. "Being a nonbinary adult's pretty great, honestly. It's good to just be myself." They look over to the table again, where Lola and Kai are seemingly locked in conversation with Marco and Dante, all of them laughing. "I think you landed with a pretty good group when you came here, too."

"Maybe," they say, and their voice is suddenly soft again, quiet. "...I probably could have talked to Lola about this. I know she's trans, 'cause she told me, uh, when I told her my pronouns. But, I dunno. It's not the same, you know?"

"I get that," Stef says. Even when they'd discovered they were nonbinary, there were still questions. There was still pressure from people around them: pressure to identify as a woman, pressure to _"just admit they were a gay man,_ " pressure to go back into the closet, pretend to be anything but what they are. And it had been tough, back then, to stick with what they knew to be true. Having an adult in their life who was _also_ nonbinary could have put a lot of those thoughts to rest. "Her experiences aren't the same as ours, but then, yours isn't exactly the same as mine, either. Lola can probably answer a lot of questions for you. Or even just... be there for you as you deal with your own struggles, you know?"

"Yeah," Sam says. "Yeah. You're right. ...Thanks, Stef." And then they look up at them sharply, eyes _fiery,_ and they say in a snarl that's the complete _opposite_ of what they'd seemed just a moment ago, "And don't _ever_ tell anyone we had this conversation, okay?! I _never_ got sappy with you."

Then they turn and march back to the table, leaving Stef to stand under the tree and blink in bewilderment after them. _Well._ Alright, then.

\-----

The party continues until the sun is on its way down, the orange-y yellow circle hovering just above the edge of the horizon and casting a golden light over everything. 

"Hey, since everyone's here," Dante says suddenly, "who wants to see one'a the projects me an' Marco've been workin' on?"

"What kinda project?" Madhavi asks, from where she's laying sprawled across the grass. 

"Well," says Dante, with a glint in his eye, "seein' as I'm a master mechanic an' my birthday boy fiance over there is a master software engineer, what _else_ would we do together besides build _robots?"_

Simon laughs. "You guys built a _robot_ together?! Hell _yeah!_ Bring it out!"

Stef, seated in a chair beside Kai, watches their brother and Dante as they head over to the shed and open it, rummaging around. Marco looks so _happy,_ and Dante... well, so does he. They're laughing together, bumping into each other and grinning as they get whatever this project of theirs is ready to show off.

And Stef, well... they're proud of them. Of _both_ of them, honestly. Working together, having fun, just... enjoying _life, together._ That's what Stef _wants_ for them.

Marco places himself in front of the entrance to the shed while Dante sets something up behind him. He's got a controller of some kind in his hands, something chunky and black with an antenna sticking out the front of it. He's practically _glowing,_ and even from across the yard Stef can see the pride in the tilt of his lips, the mischievous glimmer in his eye. Good _grief,_ what are they gonna showcase?

Dante moves to stand beside Marco, and the two exchange twin _Looks._ "Behold!" Dante shouts, lifting both arms high into the air. "An amazing feat of technological and mechanical engineering! Gaydies and gentlethems, we bring you: _the Dildrone!"_

Marco hits a button on his controller and a buzzing sound fills the air. A shape rises from behind the two of them, and at first all Stef can see are the little helicopter blades whirring above the second shape, a shape which looks all too familiar, but _no,_ no of course it _can't_ be, they wouldn't-- _Marco_ wouldn't--"

"Oh my _god,"_ Shaw exclaims. "Is that a fucking _dildo?!"_

"Hell yeah it is," Marco says, pride in his otherwise monotone voice. "The Dildrone."

Everyone laughs as Marco sends the _thing_ flying around the yard. Stef doesn't look at it. They _refuse_ to look at it, refuse to acknowledge that their _little itty bitty baby brother_ even _knows_ what a dildo is, refuses to believe that _Marco_ would build a _fricking_ _dildo into a fully functioning drone._

"Wow," they say through clenched teeth. "Amazing. Congrats, you too."

Everyone laughs again. Stef is _so_ ready to go home.

**Thursday, July 23.**

"Hey, Gabe!" Damien says as his face fills Gabe's phone screen. "I know why _you_ called! Hang on a sec and I'll get the munchkin. She just woke up, mm, twenty minutes ago? Georgie, sweetie, guess who called for you!"

Gabe chuckles to himself as he watches the spinning, swirling scenery caused by Damien's jostling the phone all over. He adjusts his position on the couch, leaning back and stretching one leg out on the cushions in front of him, letting the other rest on the floor.

Georgie appears onscreen then, a grin splitting her face, which is framed by a halo of dark curls. "Daddy!" she exclaims. "Hi! Dad got me Cocoa Puffs!"

He laughs. "Well, I'm not the one who has to deal with your sugar highs, so I'm not gonna argue against that. Happy birthday, baby girl."

"Thank yooou," she sing-songs, and then shovels a dripping mess of cereal into her mouth. "I'm ten now," she says with her mouth full, "which means I'm finally in the double digits!"

"You sure are," he says. "How's it feel to have a zero in your age? Do you feel any older?"

"I feel _very_ grown-up," she says, swallowing. "Ooh, Daddy, Jason's not working today! He says he's gonna take me to the 'quarium! I _love_ the 'quarium. Daddy says I can pick something out at the gift shop too! Isn't that _amazing?!"_

_"Super_ amazing," Gabe tells her. "Take some pictures for your dear old desert-dwelling daddy, okay? I miss the otters."

"I will be _extra_ sure to get you otter pictures," Georgie promises. She takes another mouthful of cereal. "Ooh, Jason! Can we get ice cream after the 'quarium? _Pleeease?"_

"Sure," Gabe barely hears Jason's low, quiet voice through the phone's tinny speakers. "But only if you promise not to jump in the touch-tank."

"I would _never_ do that!" Georgie protests. "I might hurt the sea urchins!"

"Then it won't be a problem," he says.

Georgie turns the screen toward Jason then, and Gabe sees the fat pale man sitting opposite her, his head cradled in one hand and a cup of what can only be coffee clutched protectively in the other. He lifts his head slightly to nod at Gabe. "Mornin', Gabriel," he says.

"Hey, Jason," Gabe replies. They don't say anything else to each other. Jason's never really been a morning person, and Gabe learned pretty quick not to bother him too much before he's finished his coffee. Georgie's really the only one who can get away with it without getting the stink eye.

The camera swirls back around to Georgie, and she starts telling him all about the car ride to her dad's and about what they've all been doing the last couple of days. Gabe listens attentively, asking questions and making comments. She continues on until she's finished her breakfast, and then past that, until Damien announces off-camera that she's got to get dressed to go.

"Okay!" she calls, before turning her gaze back to Gabe. "Bye, Daddy! I love you! Talk to you later!"

"Bye, Georgie! I love you, too!" he calls back, even though her image on the screen has already been replaced by a green _call ended_ screen. He sighs and lays his phone screen-down on his chest, leans his head back to stare up at the popcorn ceiling above him. 

The house just feels so _empty_ without Georgie around, yelling and laughing and talking his ear off while she draws comics at the kitchen table. The tiny house feels far too _big_ when he's the only person here.

He has to go back to the diner soon. He's sure there's _something_ that needs doing over there, and he only took a break to call Georgie.

Once he's back in the diner, he won't feel so lonely. But when the diner closes for the night, and he's back over here in his empty little house....

Well, he won't be happy about it.

So, maybe he can stave off the loneliness for a bit with some company. 

He picks his phone back up and opens his messages.

> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Good morning, beautiful! Are you busy tonight?

The reply comes in almost immediately.

> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** NEVER too busyt for YOU babe
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** well ok so soemtime si have other things goit ng on 
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** but tonight ti have no pland ecept to flipck mindlessly thofuhg netfluix while crammign popccorn into my mouth
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** WOWE that sounded sad pleasd ignote that
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** ANEYAY no i am NOT busy tonight whay whats yup?
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** I was just thinking....
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Georgie's at her dad's, and you aren't nearly as busy as you are suring the school year. Do you want to come over tonight? ;-)
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** *during
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** !!!!!!!!!!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** heck YEAH i fo!!!! 
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** whast time shoudl i coulme over?
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** 6 or 7?
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** see you then gabey baby 😘

\-----

When Gabe comes in from the diner that night, it's to a lamp-brightened living room and a cute enby sprawled across his couch. It's such a nice change from the last couple of days (has it only been _a couple of days?)_ , that he can't help but stumble forward to collapse onto the couch with them, letting out a muffled groan and he presses his face into the cushion behind Stef.

They laugh, moving and shifting and kneeing Gabe in the jaw (his own fault, he knows). "Rough day, Gabey?"

"You could say that," he says. He picks himself up off the couch so they can scoot back into the cushions, and then he lays down in front of them. The couch wasn't really built for two adults to lay side-by-side on, and Gabe's arm kind of hangs uncomfortably over the edge of the couch and onto the floor, but Stef wraps their own arm around his chest and presses up against his back and it feels _so_ nice, _so_ comforting, that he doesn't even consider moving someplace else.

"Comfy?" Stef asks, and he feels them lay their cheek against his upper back.

He hums an affirmative, closes his eyes, and just lays there for a bit, listening to the sound of his breathing, of Stef's breathing, of the air conditioner _whirr_ ing away, of the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen behind them. 

"You miss the kiddo, huh?" Stef asks after a few quiet moments, and Gabe sighs.

"Yeah," he says. "I just, I dunno. It's the first year I haven't spent her birthday with her. And it's her _tenth_ birthday! That's a big deal. I wanna be there to celebrate that with her."

"You can celebrate with her when she gets back," Stef tells him. Their grip tightens around him. "She's gone for, what, two weeks? Right? She'll have _two_ parties. Kids _love_ having two birthday parties."

"I know," Gabe says. He'd already planned on making a cake for her when she gets back, maybe getting her a couple of balloons or something to go with her gifts. "I just..." He sighs. "I _don't_ know, I guess."

Stef hums behind him, their hand rubbing back and forth over his chest. Belatedly, he realized he hasn't changed or showered yet, and since he'd spent most of the day in the hot kitchen, he _can't_ smell very good. But Stef hasn't said anything, or moved or done anything to imply that they'd rather be somewhere other than pressed up against his smelly, sweaty self, so he doesn't excuse himself, doesn't get up. They're helping him. They _want_ to be with him. So it's okay.

"I'm just... I'm still not used to an empty house," he says. Stef doesn't pause, just keeps stroking over his chest. "I've never lived alone-- not _really._ I mean, I had my own place before I moved here, but I only ever really _slept_ there, and even then sometimes I'd just sleep on Damien's futon down the road. It's too quiet without Georgie here--without _anyone_ here. Too lonely."

He feels Stef nod against their back. "I know _exactly_ what you mean," they say. "I have _never_ lived alone. I lived with my parents and Marco, and then I lived with Shaw and Marco, and then I lived with just Marco, and now... well, you know." Their hand stops moving against his chest, just laying there, right over his heart. He can feel it beating under their palm. "I don't like being alone," they say. "I'm not _good_ at being alone."

A surge of inspiration strikes Gabe just then, and he turns, nearly falling to the floor before he's able to shift over and face them. He reaches over them and grips onto the back of the couch to keep himself steadily in place as he looks at them. They stare back at him, a question in their bright eyes.

"Do you want to stay over?" he asks, and they raise an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, I thought that was the plan? I mean, I already dropped off my overnight bag in your bathroom." Their expression turns sheepish. "Should I not have? Did I read too much into it? Uh--"

"No, no, that's fine," he says. He readjusts his grip on the couch, plants his other elbow into the arm of the couch to steady himself. "But I didn't just mean tonight. I mean, do you wanna stay over until Georgie gets back?"

Their eyes widen. "You want me to stay here for _two weeks?!"_

Oh, shit. Was this a bad idea? Is this moving too quickly? Shit. "Well, uh, a little less than two weeks," he says. "But, uh, yeah. If you don't want to, that's fine, I just-- _you're_ lonely, _I'm_ lonely, we could--you could--"

"Gabe," Stef says, and they reach up to touch his face, their fingertips brushing over his cheek. "If you're inviting me, then heck _yes_ I wanna stay over! You're sure, though?"

"Yeah," he says, his heart hammering faster in his chest. "Yeah, I--you don't have to stay the _whole_ two weeks, if you don't want, uh, I know the place is pretty small, and the insulation's not the best, and--and, uh, well--"

"Gabe," they say again, and their fingers press gently against his cheek now, moving down across his jaw. "I'll stay."

"Yeah?" he asks, and he can't believe how happy that makes him. 

"Yeah," they reply, a laugh in their voice. They lean up and kiss him, and he relaxes into it, moving his hand from the back of the couch to cup the back of their head, change the angle of the kiss, kiss them _more_ \--

And then he promptly falls off the couch and onto his back on the hard floor, jarring his spine and dragging Stef along with him, who elbows him in the stomach on the way down.

_"Shit,_ " he hisses, as he waits for the sudden pain to wash away. On top of him, Stef giggles, their face pressed into his shirt for a moment before they lift their head, their laugh getting deeper, and he can't help but laugh along with them.

**Tuesday, July 28.**

> **FROM: gabe babe:** Good luck! I'm rootin' for ya! <3 Are you coming back to my place after or heading back to your apartment?
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** your palce probably!! 
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** Then I'll have some snacks in the fridge for you when you get back! <3
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** thanks babe youre the best!!!!!!
> 
> **FROM: gabe babe:** <3 <3 <3

\-----

  
  


"Yeah, I'm great," Stef lies. They're standing in front of a cafe--the same cafe that they used to sit _in_ while waiting for Marco--and they can't seem to stop crossing and uncrossing their arms, sticking their hands in the pockets of their slacks (it's nearly a hundred degrees today, and they're really regretting their decision to dress professionally), and then starting the process all over again.

"Uh-huh." Marco doesn't look or sound like he particularly believes them. "Stef. You'll be fine."

"I _know_ I'll be fine!" they say. "So, like, don't _worry_ about me, okay? I'll go in there and talk and then I'll be back over _here_ and then we can get tea and coffee and go home. Homes. I-- _ugh._ " They uncross their arms again, let their hands dangle at their sides for a moment, and then stick them back into their pockets. "I'll--I'll see you later, okay?"

"Stef," Marco says again, and he puts one of his hands on their shoulder, squeezes gently. "You'll be _fine._ Marie's nice. Helpful. She won't judge you for anything, okay?"

"Yeah." They exhale slowly, let their eyes fall closed. They focus on the pressure of his hand on their shoulder. 

They don't know why they're so nervous. It's just talking to someone for an hour and, like, venting about your life, right? That's fine, that's easy, Stef can do that. Kind of. They complain to their friends _all_ the time! ...But rarely about the things Stef _knows_ Marie is going to ask about today. 

They don't _need_ therapy, though! This is just a one-time thing, just a quick in-and-out, so they can tell their friends they _went_ to therapy and that the therapist _herself_ said they don't need it! It's fine. It's good.

It's _great._

Right?

They open their eyes and smile at Marco. 

Marco squeezes their shoulder again before letting his hand drop away from them. "I'll be waitin' for ya when you're done," he says. He gives them a little wave before turning and heading inside to go sit with Dante.

Stef takes a deep breath, then turns and faces the building across the street.

It's just an hour.

They can do this.

\-----

"Hi, Stef," Marie greets as Stef quietly enters her office. They've been in here before, only once, and over a year ago. They'd accompanied Marco to his first therapy session, sticking around just long enough to make sure he'd be okay before heading out to the waiting room.

The office hasn't changed much in that time. Maybe some of the art on the walls is different, some of the fidget toys on her desk. But the desk itself is the same big, solid thing, and the two chairs on opposite sides of it, both comfortable-looking, padded things, and the plants lining one wall and sitting in the corners.

It's nice.

It's _fine._

"Hi, Marie," they say, smiling and trying to hide their nerves, but that feels... counterproductive. Surely a _therapist_ would understand a client being nervous, whether they _actually_ need therapy or not. They settle into the chair across from her and fold their hands in their lap.

"It's good to see you again," she says with a soft, kind smile. "I know that this kind of thing can be a little scary, so thank you for taking the initiative to come in."

"Yeah," they say. "It's. Good to see you?" They inwardly berate themself for the awkward phrasing, but then they take a breath and settle down. "Um, so... what does this... entail?" Obviously they know at least some of the goings-on of therapy thanks to Marco, but they don't know what _they're_ going to have to do.

"Well," she says, "today's a little different from how a usual session goes. I'm going to ask you some questions--really personal questions, sorry about that--so I can get a good feel of what's going on. Feel free to ask me any questions, too, or tell me anything else you think might be important for me to know." She leans slightly to one side and opens a drawer in her desk, pulling out a clipboard with a yellow legal pad clipped to it. She shuts the drawer, and then pulls a pen from the little cup next to her computer. She clicks the pen, and then looks at Stef. "Does that sound okay?"

They swallow. They remind themself that they're doing this for Marco, and for Shaw, and for Gabe, so they can show them that they're doing their best, and that they're _okay._ They nod once, more to themself than to Marie.

"Now, Stef, I know we spoke briefly over the phone, but can you please tell me what brought you in today?"

"Well, uh." Crap, how do they word this? How do they sum up their whole _thing_ for this woman? "Well, my brother... moved out, recently. Which I guess you know about, since you're _his_ therapist, too." She probably knows the whole story, in fact. Well, at least Marco's side of it. She's nodding, which, wow, they hope she can't read their mind. That would be _embarrassing._ They look down at their hands in their lap. "Uh, so, when he left, I kinda... freaked out, I guess? I took it really hard and uh, worried a lot of my friends." They look up to see her scrawling something on her clipboard and hastily add, "I should mention that I don't think I need to be here! That was all just a fluke, really, and it's all been sorted out. I'm just here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea if I talked to someone."

She nods as she continues writing, and then looks up at them again. "It's okay if you decide therapy's not for you," she says. "Today's just about me learning what's been going on with you, and letting you know my thoughts on the situation. After we talk for a bit, I'll tell you any ideas or suggestions I have for you, and you can decide if you want to come back or not."

"Okay," they say, relieved even though they'd already known this. "That sounds reasonable. So, what else do you need to know?"

"Well," she says. "When you say you 'freaked out,' can you go into more detail for me? How exactly did you react to your brother's moving out?"

"Well..." Stef begins. They tell her all about what they've been through the past few months, about their concerns for Marco and Dante's relationship that may not have been true, about the way they'd acted and the things they'd said, the way they'd pushed everyone away and refused their help. They tell her how they corrected their mistakes, how they're working on getting to know Dante and letting their brother live his own life.

When she prompts, they tell her about growing up with their parents, about taking care of Marco, even about their old party habits. 

It gets easier to tell her things as they talk. They don't know if it's because they've had practice lately, explaining things to Gabe and Dante and Marco, or if it's because Marie's a neutral third party who uses soft tones and makes them feel comfortable. Whatever the reason, they find themself relaxing and growing more animated as they talk, and though it still hurts, it's not as difficult to talk about painful memories as it may otherwise have been.

When she's run out of questions and Stef can no longer think of anything else to add, Marie nods once, to herself, and clicks her pen again. "Alright, Stef," she says. "I think I have enough information here. Let's go over a few things and see if we can't figure out a good way to help you...."

\-----

"Marco!" Stef cries when they find him in the cafe. They slam their hands on his table and look him directly in the eye. "Guess who's a codependent trauma survivor with crappy coping mechanisms!" They don't give him a chance to respond before straightening up and pointing at themself. _"Me!"_

He snorts a little, the corner of his mouth creeping upward. "Yeah? Sucks to be you, I guess."

They roll their eyes and give his shoulder a shove. "Shut _up,"_ they say. "And scoot over, will ya?"

He does so, sliding down the booth just enough that Stef can drop into the seat next to him. They lean against him, and he doesn't pull away.

"Guess it went well then, huh?" Dante asks from the other side of the table, slurping loudly at the remains of his drink through his straw.

"Yeah," they say. It's weird. They hadn't actually expected to come out of there with... a _diagnosis_ or whatever, let alone _three._ They think maybe they should feel embarrassed or something, but they don't. They feel... good. It's _good_ to know that there's a reason for the way they've acted, and it's even _better_ knowing that there's stuff they can do to help themself avoid acting that way ever again. "So, like, apparently locking yourself up in your apartment and ignoring all your loved ones to obsessively text your brother is a _bad_ thing! Who knew?!"

Marco snorts again, and he moves to put his arm around Stef's shoulders and hug them to his side. It's _exactly_ what Stef needs right now. "Pretty sure everyone knows that," he says. "'Cept you. So, you done with this? Therapy, I mean."

"Nah," they say. "Got another appointment next week."

"Cool," he says, and Stef can hear the smile in his voice.

"You know I love you, right Marco?"

"Course I do," he says, and squeezes their shoulders.

Stef smiles. Dante finally gives up on the straw and turns the cup upside down over his mouth to try and catch the last drop on his tongue. 

Things are finally good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it! if you did, feel free to leave kudos or a comment! you can also find me on tumblr [@enby-jetstar](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to follow me there or send me an ask. 
> 
> two chapters left! one final chapter for the story plus an epilogue. both of those will be uploaded next month! 🎉🎉🎉


	13. August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya hiya!! hope you're all doing well this fine december day!! hanukkah starts in a few days, so if you celebrate that, i hope you have a lovely time! ✨💙✨
> 
> strange as it is to say, this is the final chapter of this fic (excluding the epilogue which will be posted in a couple weeks). gabe and stef's first year together is coming to an end. :')
> 
> thank you as always to my friend [pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this chapter!! you two are huge helps, as always!! 💕
> 
> please enjoy this chapter! 💖

**Monday, August 3.**

Having Stef over for more than just a single day--they've been staying here for over a week now, in fact--is fun. It's good! Gabe likes waking up next to them, likes coming back from the diner to find them on his couch or at his table, working on their laptop or just hanging out. He likes not being _alone_ in the house, of course, but more than that he likes having another adult in the house, someone he can complain to about whatever _adult_ things pop into his head (like paperwork, or terrible customers, or the ethics of single-use plastics) without having to text or call someone.

And more than _that,_ he just... likes having Stef around. They're fun to talk to, fun to cuddle up with, fun to sleep with (metaphorically more than literally--they kick and move around a lot in their sleep). He likes the way that they can tell when he's had a rough day, and that they know the perfect way to help him relax. He likes that they ask him his opinion when they have to make decisions about their class curriculum and which new supplies to buy and that sort of thing.

Right now, they're both sitting at the kitchen table. They've just finished dinner (leftovers from the diner, because Gabe is _not_ cooking anymore, not when he's spent the whole day in the kitchen), and now they're just sitting here together. Stef has their laptop out, and Gabe's looking through some pictures Damien's sent him of Georgie and the family. It's quiet, comfortable.

Georgie's coming back in just a few days. He's _beyond_ excited to have his little girl back home with him, of course, but that doesn't stop him from being a little disappointed by the knowledge that Stef's going to have to go back to their apartment soon.

He glances up at them across the table. They've got their glasses on and they're squinting at their screen. Their elbow is dangerously close to landing in the gravy smeared across their plate. They're _adorable._

Not for the first time this last week, he entertains the idea of asking them to move in with him.

He's not _going_ to, of course. Not _now._ They've only been dating for... uh... five months? Give or take? And a not-insignificant portion of that time had been spent with Stef completely ignoring him. He has a million things to think about, not the least of which is his daughter. It's _far_ too soon to _seriously_ think about something as massive as _asking his datemate to move in._

But still. It's a nice idea. Maybe sometime in the future. It's definitely something to keep in mind, as their relationship progresses.

Stef catches him looking at them and quirks an eyebrow at him, lowering their glasses to look over the tops at him. "What's up, Gabey?" they ask.

"Nothin'," he says, shaking his head. "Just thinkin'."

"Oh?" They straighten up in their seat. "What about?"

"You," he answers honestly, giving them a smile.

Stef grins, leaning to one side and raising their hand to their face, opening their mouth to reply--

And then their elbow lands on their plate, and their expression twists into one of revulsion.

_"Eugh!"_ they exclaim, jerking their arm away. The motion sends the plate careening off the table, and they barely catch it before it hits the floor, whacking their elbow against the back of their chair in doing so. _"Ow,_ crap!" they yelp. "Freakin' _frick!"_

Gabe can't help but laugh, even as he stands to go help them out.

Yeah, he thinks. Eventually.

**Thursday, August 6.**

These last two weeks, Stef's been more content than they've felt since Marco moved out. They've been practically out of their _mind_ , having no one to talk to except themself or the odd friend who's willing to let them call and chatter at them for an hour or so. 

They've never lived alone. They don't think they were _built_ for it.

So being at Gabe's has been nice. Wonderful, even! They have plenty of time to themself when Gabe's working, and when he comes back, it's nice to just cuddle up to him on the couch or talk to him across the kitchen table. 

Unfortunately, all that comes to an end today.

Georgie's going to be here any minute, and Stef's already packed all their things into their car. They wish they could stay longer... and, really, there's no reason they _can't_ stay another night--Gabe had told them that they could come over anytime, spend the day here even, as long as they're willing to watch Georgie while he's working--but Stef figures it's better to leave now than _never_ be able to leave.

"If you see them," Gabe calls from the bathroom, where he's unfortunately shaving off the short beard that he's managed to grow in the time Stef's been here, "let me know! You can go say hi before I get there, if you want!"  
"Will do!" Stef calls back from their place on the couch.

Marie had told Stef at their last session that if they're unhappy living by themself, they should seek out a roommate. But... well, Stef can't exactly move in with Marco and Dante. Shaw seems to enjoy living alone. Manami and Rosana aren't exactly shopping around for a roommate. Simon and Madhavi basically live with Lola and Kai, plus Sam, so there's not exactly room there. And Gabe... well. There's _Georgie_ to think about. Stef doesn't want to even _suggest_ moving the relationship along that quickly and basically forcing their way into the kid's family life only to run into trouble down the road and end up completely breaking her support system or something.

So, general loneliness and frequent visits to friends' houses it is.

They spot Damien's car pull off the road just as Gabe comes out of the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel.

"Here they are!" Stef says, jumping to their feet. Gabe lowers the towel from his face, and Stef laughs. He always looks so much _younger_ when he's freshly shaven. He looks like a college freshman, eager-eyed and baby-faced. They put a hand on either cheek and squish his face. "You are the _cutest_ li'l baby!" they say in baby-talk, and then smooch his forehead, ignoring the roll of his eyes.

"Whatever," he says. "I wanna go see my _kid!"_

"And your ex," Stef reminds him as they both make their way to the door. 

_"And_ my ex," Gabe agrees.

Georgie's already made it to the porch when they get the door open. "Stef!" she exclaims, hugging them around the waist. "What are _you_ doing here?! _Daddy!_ I missed you _so_ much!" She releases Stef and shoves past them to hug her father even tighter, and they laugh.

"I missed you, too, my little Georgia Peach!" he says, hugging her right back.

"Heya, Stef!" Damien calls from where he's leaning against the side of his car. "Fancy seein' _you_ here. You got some kinda vested interest in Mr. Gabriel Martín or somethin'?"

Stef laughs and walks down the steps to join him, leaving Gabe and Georgie to their reunion. "I mean, _someone's_ gotta keep 'im company while the kid's off, what, visitin' aquariums and hikin' through the woods?"

"That's true!" Damien says, and his smile widens, his eyes grow softer. "I'm really glad you're here for him," he says. "I worry about him a lot, bein' so far from all his old friends an' family. But, well..." He shrugs, straightening up. "I can also see he's got a home here."

"Yeah," they say. "He's happy here, I think."

"Good." Damien pushes away from the car to go open up the trunk. "Then I'm happy to leave both of 'em in such capable hands."

**Saturday, August 8.**

There's a small room toward the back of the diner that Gabe sometimes reserves for parties. It's set up exactly the same as the rest of the dining area, with a few tables and chairs, and usually just acts as extra seating when the main area gets too full.

Today, however, the room is host to a birthday party for a very special little girl.

"Georgie, that streamer's about to come loose. Can you give it a smack for me?"

Georgie launches up from her seat at the table she's been sharing with her friends and slaps the end of the blue paper streamer with gusto, re-sticking the tape to the wall. Sarah and Benson give her a round of applause, and she makes a deep, sweeping bow. Gabe chuckles as he checks his phone.

He has three texts.

> **FROM: Marco:** be there as soon as dante's finished wrapping the box. hope you like duct tape.
> 
> **FROM: Lola Ramirez:** We might be a little late but we'll get there!! ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** oh in the DINER?? i thotught it wawsn in youe HOUSE hang on babe i'll be there in like A Minutre

And just as he finishes reading that text, who should appear in the doorway but Stef themself with a little green-and-blue-striped gift bag in hand.

"Mx. Campbell!" Sarah and Benson cry in unison. They both rush the doorway, followed closely by Georgie. Stef laughs as they graciously receive the hugs thrust upon them.

"Hey kiddos! Fancy seein' _you_ here, huh?"

Gabe smiles to himself as Stef talks to their students; they seem to be a nearly universally-loved teacher, and he's so proud of them for that.

It's not much longer before the rest of the guests have arrived. Arnie's mothers drop him off with a promise to be back in two hours. Marco and Dante arrive, indeed with a shoe box that's been completely wrapped up with gray duct tape, along with Angel the corn snake, who Georgie is eager to hold and show off to her friends. Lola arrives with Sam in tow, who's been looking a little less sour the past couple of weeks (though they're still not a cheerful, happy-go-lucky teen and probably never will be).

The room fills up quickly, and with both Stef and Lola here to keep an eye on the kids, he pops out to help Himari bring in the cake.

"Sounds like a madhouse in there," Himari says, balancing the cake box in both arms. "You're gonna need a break after _this."_

"This _is_ my break," he says. Though the party _is_ pretty loud--he can hear at least two kids shrieking in excitement. They're _definitely_ gonna get some sugar highs going with this cake.

Gabe opens the door for Himari, who proudly steps inside with the cake held aloft. "I hear there's a birthday girl in here," they call over the noise, and immediately the other kids start pointing frantically at Georgie, who's bouncing in her seat. "Oh, miss Georgie herself! Well, here ya go! I heard your Daddy made this 'specially for you!" Himari sets the cake down on the table Georgie's sitting at and starts backing out of the room without taking the lid off. They throw a wink at Gabe, and then they're gone.

Georgie looks like she's about to vibrate out of her skin, and she's clearly struggling not to jump on the hidden cake. Luckily, Marco's taken his snake back, so at least he doesn't have to worry about her dropping Angel in the frosting or something. "Daddy!" Georgie calls, staring at him with wide eyes. "Daddy, can I open it? Can I open the cake?!"

He laughs and nods, crossing the room over to the table as she moves in to whip the lid off of the cardboard box.

She gasps. "Look, _look!"_ she tells her friends. "It's our D an' D characters!"

The other kids and most of the adults gather around to peer at the cake, and Gabe can't help but feel proud.

"Cole did the icing," he tells everyone, before they can start accusing him of having art skills or something equally as ludicrous. "I just baked the cake."

Gabe's pretty damn proud of the icing job, whether he'd done it or not. He'd shown Cole some of Georgie's drawings of her and her friends' D&D characters from Stef's club, and Cole had done a _beautiful_ job of recreating them in icing.

Georgie's mindflayer character, Cuddlefish, is in the center of the cake, surrounded by the other characters. In a speech bubble, Cole had written _"Happy birthday Georgie!"_ complete with two candles shaped like a one and a zero pressed into the cake nearby. It's _gorgeous,_ and he's happy Georgie thinks so too.

Stef comes up beside him while everyone's admiring the cake and takes his hand in theirs. "Think you're doin' a pretty good job, Gabe," they say, and he smiles, bumps their shoulder with his own.

"Think I am, too," he says, and gives them a quick peck on the cheek. He squeezes their hand, then releases it and steps forward, raising his voice. "Let's sing the song for the birthday girl and then we can dig in!"

_"Happy birthday to you...!"_

\-----

When Stef enters the little room and joins the birthday party, they're expecting to get a kiss from Gabe and maybe a hug from Georgie, but what they're _not_ expecting (and what they, really, _should_ have been expecting) is for Sarah and Benson to shout their name and come barrelling at them.

They take it in stride, though, laughing, and lean down to hug them both. "Hey kiddos! Fancy seein' _you_ here, huh?" 

"What're _you_ doin' here?!" Benson asks incredulously, like he's never seen a teacher outside of school before (well, he probably hasn't, honestly).

"The same thing as you!" they say. "I'm here to celebrate Georgie's birthday!" They reach out to receive a hug from Georgie, too, as she comes up to them. "Speaking of--here, kiddo. Gotcha a little somethin'."

Georgie eagerly takes the bag from them and reaches inside, digging through the tissue paper they'd oh-so-carefully arranged around her gift. Stef's nervous in a way that would seem completely ridiculous if this were any other kid's birthday, if it was any other kid opening this gift. They hope she likes her gift; and _that's_ a ridiculous thought, because they _know_ she will.

She gives a gasp as she pulls the gift out and lets the bag drop to the floor. "Markers!" she exclaims. "The brown markers I wanted! Sarah, _look,_ now we can make our comics again!" She looks up at Stef, her eyes bright and shining. "Thank you _so_ much Stef! You _remembered!"_

"Of course I di-- _oof."_ Georgie slams herself into them, hugging them even tighter than before, and Stef feels all their nervousness disappear, only to be replaced with a warm affection spreading through their chest. They think they're gonna _melt,_ but they manage to hold themself together long enough to hug her back. 

"Happy birthday," they tell her, straightening back up. "Put those markers to good use now, okay?"

"I will." She beams at them one more time, then hurries off back to her table with her friends, laughing and talking animatedly together. 

Georgie may be the birthday girl, but Stef _knows_ that they're the one who's received the best gift today.

**Wednesday, August 12.**

"Damn," Madhavi says as Gabe drops his bar back onto the rack with a grunt, "you actually beat your max by twenty pounds! Not bad, Martín!"

"Thanks," he says, sitting up and leaning forward on the bench to catch his breath. "Think I can do another ten."

"Hell _yeah_ ya can!" Madhavi pumps her fist in the air and heads back over to the weight rack to grab a couple of five-pounders. "Now if only you'd put this much effort into your legs. You're lookin' a little top-heavy there. Heh."

He snorts. "Some people just wanna lift weights for fun, not train their bodies to be the peak of human performance, Madhavi."

"Speak for yourself." She brings the weights over and pops them onto his bar. "When you're ready."

He lays back down and shifts until he's in the proper position, then reaches up and grabs hold of the bar. WIth Madhavi's help, he lifts it out of the rack, and when she lets go, he carefully lowers it down over his chest, then, using all of his strength, starts to push it back up.

It's hard. He's already been lifting weights for a while today, and he's just lifted more than he's ever lifted before, but he knows what he's doing, knows not to push himself _too_ far, and so, arms shaking ever so slightly with exertion, he lifts the weight back up, all the way up, and settles it back into the rack.

Madhavi lets out a low whistle. "Not bad, _not bad,"_ she says. clapping a hand on his shoulder as he sits up. "Least now I know if one'a your fancy stoves breaks ya won't have to call me to move it."

"Ha," he says, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Shit, I'm thirsty. Madhavi, could you...?"

"Get it yourself," she says. "Gotta use your legs for _somethin'._ "

"I use my legs _plenty,"_ he retorts, but he gets up to grab his water anyway. His arms are gonna be _so_ sore tomorrow. It's a soreness he likes, though, a pleasant reminder that he's improving himself. 

He takes a long drink of water as Madhavi leaves his bench press and heads for a treadmill to start on her own workout. He's always grateful that she's willing to hang out with him and help him out when he needs a spotter. 

Once Gabe feels like he's had enough, he puts his water bottle away and starts pulling the weights off his bar and stacking them back where they belong. He's done with the bench press for the day, and he doesn't really feel like doing any other upper body exercises right now, but he doesn't feel like he's been here long enough to justify going home.... _God,_ he's actually going to have to work on his legs, huh? Damn it. 

He takes the treadmill next to Madhavi's, setting it at an easy pace. Madhavi laughs.

"Can't skip leg day forever," she teases, and he rolls his eyes. 

"Shut up," he says, without putting any bite into it.

They walk (well, Madhavi jogs) silently alongside each other for a few minutes, and Gabe's mind starts to wander. He's got to take Georgie out shopping this weekend to get new school supplies. The diner's been packed recently; should he hire more staff again? Stef's been busy lately, getting ready for the new school year. He should make sure they've got plenty of good food to eat.

Thinking about Stef makes him think about, well, _Stef,_ and their relationship. Almost without thinking, he asks, "How serious do you think my and Stef's relationship is?"

The question must catch Madhavi off guard, because she stumbles and has to grab onto the bars to keep her footing. "What the _hell,_ Martín?!" she exclaims as she settles back into her rhythm. "What kinda question is _that_ to spring on someone, huh? Shit."

"Sorry," he says. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Fuck." She snorts. "Shit, I dunno. I'm not a fuckin' relationship expert. You guys seem to be pretty solidly into each other. Why?"

He shrugs, looking down at the controls for the treadmill. "I dunno. I just... I've been thinkin' lately, I guess."

"Thinkin' about _what?"_

"Just, I dunno. ...I really liked having them stay over for those couple weeks Georgie was gone." He sighs. "And before you say anything, _no,_ I'm not planning on asking them to move in with me. It's too early for that, and I don't want Georgie to have to adjust to a new person _living_ in our house like that."

"So, what then? You gonna make more time to visit 'em?"

"Maybe." Gabe's really not sure _what_ to do. He and Stef talk and text throughout the day, they see each other when they both have time, they have at least one evening and/or overnight date a week. That's not insignificant. He just doesn't know... what the next _step_ should be. He feels like there's something missing, something he needs to do, something _the two of them_ need to do, but he doesn't know what that _is._ He sighs again.

"Damn, Martín, you sound like a lovelorn teenager over there," Madhavi says with a laugh. "Look, like I said, I'm no relationship expert. Si could prob'ly give ya better advice than I could, an' he ain't got a romantic bone in his whole body! Heh. ...Talk to him, or Lola, or someone. Or just skip the outsider stuff an' talk to Stef directly. I dunno!"

He laughs. "I mean, talking to Stef about this probably _is_ the best idea," he says. And really, he thinks it _is._ If he can't figure out what's bothering him by himself, he can probably figure it out by talking it out with Stef. "Thanks, Madhavi."

"Whatever. Crank up that resistance, shit, Gabe!"

\-----

Stef knows that _eventually_ they'll get used to this house, knows that _eventually_ they'll see it as _Marco and Dante's house_ and not just _Dante's house,_ knows that they'll stop feeling an uncomfortable guilt in the pit of their stomach every time they step inside, but for now, it's just something they have to deal with when they go to see their brother.

The two of them are seated on the couch together, with Marco's purring orange furball stretched out on the back of it behind them. Marco had been working in his office when they'd arrived, but he'd shut the door and made them a cup of tea, sitting on the couch with them instead. It's good that he's able to put his work aside, good that he's able to switch gears without feeling bogged down. It's an improvement over even what his headspace had been like only a few months ago.

Stef supposes they have Dante's influence to thank for that.

"His aunt's comin' up next month," Marco says. He's in the middle of telling Stef about his and Dante's upcoming plans, and Stef's happy to find that they're enjoying it instead of dreading it. "I'm excited to meet 'er. I talked to 'er a couple times, when Dante called 'er an' she wanted to meet me, but that's it." He pauses. "D'you think it'd be weird if I thanked 'er for raisin' Dante?"

"Prob'ly not," Stef says, taking a sip of their tea. "Parents an' guardians an' whatever eat that stuff up. Everyone likes to be told they did a good job." They pause as they finish processing his statement. "Wait, Dante was raised by his _aunt?"_

"Yeah." Marco leans back a little, and the wind from the fan in the corner ruffles his hair. "From like, twelve onward. His parents were pretty shitty, an' she got custody."

"Huh," they say. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah, well." Marco shrugs one shoulder and then falls silent. Stef picks up the unspoken _"you never wanted to know anything about him,"_ and they're glad he doesn't actually say that. Things are still a little awkward between them, but the rift is healing.

"Anyway," they say, "it's cool that you're gonna get to meet her! Bet Gabe would love it if you guys brought her to the diner while she's here."

"There's an idea," Marco says. He straightens up. "Speakin' of Gabe... does he do any catering?"

"Catering? Uh, I don't think so." They raise an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

He shrugs again. "Just seemed like somethin' he'd be into."

"Think he's got his hands full with all the stuff goin' on _inside_ the building," they say. "If he had to worry about stuff _outside_ of it he'd prob'ly go crazy!" 

Marco hums an acknowledgement and then falls silent again.

Stef finishes their tea and sets the empty cup on the end table. "Hey, Marco? ...Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," he says.

They pause, not quite sure how to put it. "...Do you think Gabe and I are moving too slow?"

Marco snorts. "You're askin' _me_ that?"

"Yes? Wh-- oh my gosh, shut _up,_ practically _everyone_ moves at a frickin' _glacial pace_ compared to you, I _know,_ I just meant _do you think Gabe and I are moving too slow_ in regards to _normal_ people!"

Marco huffs out a little laugh, shifting and leaning against Stef's shoulder. Behind them, Tomato's purring grows louder. "No," he says. "I think you two're fine. ...Why?"

They sigh, laying their cheek against his head. They've missed this. "I just... I dunno. I feel like our relationship is, like, holding still or something, and I wanna move it forward, but there's so many _things_ to consider and it's not like we've been dating for a long time or whatever, I mean we only got together in freaking _February,_ and like-- I just--" they cut themself off with a groan, shutting their eyes. "I just don't know what to _do."_

"Talk to 'im," Marco says. "Maybe he feels the same."

"But what if he _doesn't_ and I say somethin' stupid and he decides he never wants to talk to me again?!"

"Do you really think that'll happen?"

"Well, _no,_ but what if it _does?_ I've never been as _serious_ about anyone as I have been about Gabe!"

"If he ditches you for talkin' about your feelings," Marco says, his voice a soft rumble in Stef's ears, "then he isn't worth your time, anyway."

"Gabe is _so_ worth my time!" Stef protests, eyes flying open. "He's sweet and caring and loving and funny and _so_ freaking sexy and selfless and--"

"If he's all those things," Marco cuts them off, "then he's not gonna ditch ya just like that."

Stef inhales, about to protest, but then they pause, and consider. They let the breath out slowly and relax against him again. "Yeah," they say, quietly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks, Marco."

"Sure thing. ...Wanna play Mario Kart?"

"Heck _yes_ I do!"

**Saturday, August 15.**

"Can I get a new backpack?! Daddy, _look,_ this one's got _glitter_ on it!"

Gabe shakes his head before even looking up from the printout in his hand. "A new--? No, Georgie, we agreed that last year's backpack was still good enough."

She pouts at him, clutching a little sparkly blue backpack to her chest. "But I don't like yellow as much anymore!" she exclaims. "And this one's got _glitter_ on it, Daddy! _Glitter!"_

He looks at her. He looks at the backpack. He looks at the display behind her. He cringes. "Georgie, _no._ That's way too expensive and it won't even hold as much as your yellow one does!"

"But _Daddy--_ "

"Georgie, _no._ " He hates having to say no to her, hates having to put his foot down. He wracks his brain, trying to find a solution that won't just leave his kid upset and unenthusiastic about the rest of the trip. "Lola said she was gonna teach you how to sew, right?"

She looks at him suspiciously, still holding onto her backpack. "Yeah...?"

"Then why don't you decorate your old backpack for the new year? Sew some patches on it or something?" 

She tilts her head back slightly, considering. Her lips purse. "Maybe..." she says slowly, and then her eyes light up. "Ooh, yeah! That would be really fun! Then my backpack would be _so_ cool, and _no one_ would have the same one!" She drops the backpack into the pile of identical ones and grabs onto the shopping cart. "Can we get some patches, Daddy? _Please?"_

He laughs, _so_ damn relieved. "Sure, kiddo. We can get you one or two. I bet your dad would be more than happy to send you some, too."

Her smile widens. "Yeah! He always has the _best_ patches. Okay, we can call him tonight! What's next on the list?"

He lets himself breathe a sigh of relief and looks back down at the printout. "Uh... notebooks. You need six."

"Ooh!" She darts away from him into the stationery aisle, and he hurries after her, dodging around other shoppers. "Can I get the big fancy ones?!"

"You're getting the twenty-five-cent notebooks," he tells her, already reaching for one of the display boxes of cheap notebooks. "You can pick out _one_ fancy notebook, but it has to be five dollars or less. And you can get a new sketchbook, since they're on sale."

Georgie lets out a cheer and squeezes between a couple of women to push farther down the aisle. He can't exactly follow her, since there's not enough room for him to push the cart through right now, but he trusts her not to leave the aisle and not to pick out anything _alarmingly_ expensive, since he's given her a budget.

He sifts through the notebooks and picks out one of each color--red, blue, yellow, green, and purple. Of course there's only _five_ colors and she needs _six_ notebooks. He knows Georgie well enough to know the "fancy" notebook is going to be used for her stories and game plans and most certainly _not_ for school, so unfortunately she's going to have to deal with the fact that two of her notebooks are the same color. He picks out a second blue one, since that's been her go-to color lately, and puts all six into his cart.

Georgie's back pretty quickly with two books in her hands: a notebook with a stiff plastic cover bound with a plastic spiral and decorated with pink, purple, and blue butterflies, and a thick blue book that must be the sketchpad she's picked out. She drops them both into the cart. 

They resume their journey, picking up pencils, pens, a new ruler, and myriad other supplies. By the time they've checked everything off on the list, they still need to get Georgie some new clothes, but Gabe's _exhausted._ He's pretty much always exhausted in one way or another, but he just can't bear the idea of strolling around the store with all these other parents and kids anymore today. 

They make their way up to the registers, and while they wait in line, Georgie entertains herself by flipping through an Archie comic he has no intention of buying, and he checks his phone.

> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** i finelaly figurred out how korse keeps his wals sos free of STAPLES ANDS HOLES!! asnd i feels os STUPID!!!
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** And what have you learned, Mx. Campbell? How does he do it? :-)
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** BLU TACK EH USE SFRICCKIGNG PUTTY AND JUST WHAP!! STICKES HIS PIOSTERS UP!!!
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** like of frickin CORUSE it's puttyu what the heck ELSE would it be uim so mad this is my FIFTH YEAR HERE and ai JUST figrued it out!!!!!!
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** LOL X-D I mean, at least now you know?
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** DON":T YOU LOL XD ME YOU JERK!!! 
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** but yeah noe i know!!! can youe pick me eup a pack of puttey since you're at the estore?
> 
> **FROM: stef✨💖✨:** howws it goin byt the way are you ddying tyet?
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** Sorry, already in line. :-( I can get you some later ths week though.
> 
> **TO: stef✨💖✨:** I'm old and I need a nap. Heading home as soon as we get done paying!

He pockets his phone then as he notices the person in front of them is finishing up. He doesn't notice Georgie slip the comic into the stack of notebooks until it's already been rung up, but he just shoots her a look. He'll have to take it out of her allowance, he supposes.

Georgie helps him carry the bags out to the car, chattering away about her hopes for the upcoming school year. He still can't believe his _little girl_ is going to be in _middle school_ next month! How the hell have ten years passed so quickly?

Ah, well. He still has lots of adventures to look forward to in upcoming years.

\-----

Stef can't freaking _believe_ the answer's been under their nose this whole time. Just a little bit of snooping around in Korse's unlocked and empty classroom had provided the answer they've been seeking since the beginning.

_Adhesive putty._

Stef's walls will be riddled with holes _no longer!_ They'll never have to use a stapler or push pins again! It's _amazing!_

**FROM: gabe babe:** Sorry, already in line. :-( I can get you some later this week though.

They start to reply when a second message comes through.

> **FROM: gabe babe:** I'm old and I need a nap. Heading home as soon as we get done paying!

Aw, poor Gabe. Back to school shopping with a kid on a _Saturday_ sounds exhausting. Stef's glad they're able to order most of their supplies through the school. They just need to buy a few things themself. Like snacks. And putty.

> **TO: gabe babe:** its fine doent worry about it ill pucke some up when i go shooping next!!
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** go ohome and tale a NAP gabey!! you took thte whole day off togay right?
> 
> **TO: gabe babe:** HA togay.....

He doesn't reply right away, so Stef sticks their phone back in their pocket and gets back to work prepping for the new year. They're supposed to have seventeen kids in class this year, so they've got to make sure they're properly stocked up on everything!

Hm. Maybe adhesive putty _wouldn't_ be that great. You can only use it so many times before you toss it, and the school doesn't pay for it. The school _does,_ however, pay for push pins and staples.... And, after all, who _cares_ if Stef's walls aren't as immaculate as Korse's? Stef's _class_ is noticeably more fun than _Korse's_ class is, which is the _most_ important thing...

> **TO: gabe babe:** nevermind the putty im stayin OLD SCHOOL BABYYYYYY!!

**Tuesday, August 18.**

_"Guess who's here,"_ Shaw sing-songs as ae skates into the kitchen with a tray full of dirty dishes in aer arms.

"Stef?" Gabe asks excitedly, wiping sweat off his forehead. Stef's been working more again, since school's starting up again soon, and Gabe's sort of surprised by how much he misses hanging out with them at any hour of the day and any day of the week. Their schedule's not _too_ heavy right now, but soon they'll have to go back to hanging out primarily on the weekends, and that's _sad._

"Surprisingly, no," Shaw says, dumping the dishes into the sink. Before Gabe can get too disappointed, ae continues, "Marco and his horrible little fiance are here! Having a double date with Lola and Kai, too. They all seem to be in good spirits."

"That's nice," he says, eyeing aer suspiciously as he finishes up the dish he's been working on. "What are you trying to say?"

"That they're practically the only people out there, besides that old man with the deep pockets, and it is _clearly_ past your break time!"

"I can pop out to say _hi,"_ Gabe says, "but I'm not going to sit out there and invite myself on their date. And who's supposed to cook their food? I'm the only one on duty right now."

"Taiki's comin' in now," Shaw says, taking the plate from him and skating backwards toward the door.

"Don't skate backwards, you'll _crash!"_

"Darling, these wheels are practically an extension of _myself._ They don't call me Shaw Reidel for nothin'!" The door opens behind aer, Taiki's large frame appearing in the doorway, and for one brief, horrible moment, it seems like Shaw really _will_ crash into him, but instead ae _gracefully_ swerves around him without even a glance. "Perfect timing, Taiki! Lovely to see you, sugar!"

Taiki lifts one hand in a slight wave and enters the kitchen, unfazed as always by Shaw's antics. Gabe sighs and shakes his head.

"Afternoon, Taiki," he says. "D'you need any help gettin' started?

Taiki shakes his head no and ties his apron around his waist.

"Alright, then. I'm stepping into the dining room for a bit. Let me know if you need anything!"

Taiki nods, and Gabe gives him a thumbs-up before heading out of the kitchen.

He can hear Lola and Dante right away, both of them talking rapid-fire and laughing together. Following the sound, he finds them--along with the aforementioned Marco and Kai--seated together in one of the out-of-the-way booths.

Dante and Lola have seated themselves on one side of the table, across from their respective partners. The two of them are involved in some conversation, sitting almost sideways in their seats as they talk animatedly, gesturing and nodding. One of Dante's hands is stretched out across the table, fingers laced with Marco's, who sits watching Dante with a fond smile. He seems to be leaning slightly against Kai, who's also watching the conversation play out.

Dante's the first one to notice him, and he cuts himself off in mid-sentence to lean to one side and wave at Gabe with his free hand. "Hey, Gabe!" he says, and he's grinning widely. "You got my money yet?"

"I don't owe you money," Gabe says out of habit. "How're you guys today?" 

"Pretty fuckin' great, actually," Dante says. "Hey, that asshole on wheels didn't get us menus. Can you be a doll and get us some?"

Gabe instinctively wrinkles his nose. "Do _not_ call me a doll," he says, but goes and grabs four menus anyway.

"Sorry!" Dante calls.

He returns just a few seconds later, but they've already gone back to their previous conversation. "I'll see you guys later," he says. Maybe he can catch a nap in his office. 

"Wait, Gabe," Marco says before Gabe's fully turned away. "You got plans on Thursday?"

"Uh. Just work, I think. Why?"

Marco shrugs one shoulder. "No reason," he says, exchanging a _Look_ with Dante. Beside him, Kai laughs.

Gabe shakes his head as he heads for his office. Well, he's only got a few days until he finds out, he supposes.

**Thursday, August 20.**

_"Are you sitting down?"_ Marco asks, and Stef readjusts the phone against their ear, settling themself onto their couch.

_"Yes_ I'm sitting down," Stef says. "And the fact that you're asking' me that makes me _really_ worried about what you're gonna tell me."

_"It's not bad, I promise,"_ Marco says. _"You like Dante, right?"_

"I... tolerate Dante," Stef says, leaning back against the couch cushions. They still don't know him all that well, although they've been trying their best to at least _not avoid_ him. Maybe one day they'll like him, but for now... well. Tolerant is as good as they can get.

_"Good enough, I guess. Okay. Uh, first of all. If you freak out, I'm coming over there with all your friends to drag you off to Marie. So. Try not to freak out."_

"Marco, if you keep sayin' crap like that, I _will_ freak out. Just tell me what you called for!"

_"Okay. ...Dante and I picked a date."_

They barely keep the phone from falling to the floor. "You...? Like a _wedding_ date?! Like _a date on which you will be wed?!"_

 _"Yes, Stef. A wedding date."_

Marco doesn't say anything after that, and Stef's brain is whirring. Their little brother is _getting married._ To _Dante._ They clear their throat. "Uh, when's the date?"

_"March 22nd."_

"March 22nd like _this_ March 22nd? Like the one coming up _this year?!"_

 _"Technically it's the one comin' up next year. We already had a March 22nd this year."_ "Oh haha, very funny, smart guy." Stef bites their lip. March is still... seven months away? That's more than half a year. That's plenty of time for things to change, for Marco to change his mind if--

No. Stef doesn't _want_ Marco to change his mind about marrying Dante, not if there isn't a _reason._ They want him to be happy. And Dante makes him happy. It's as simple as that.

"Congrats, li'l bro," they say, doing their best to let him know they're _happy for him._ "Where's it gonna be?"

_"Prob'ly just in the backyard,"_ he says, and Stef can hear the relief in his tone. He really _had_ thought they'd freak out about it, huh? Well, they can't blame him for that. _"Just gonna be friends an' family. Neither of us have a lotta family--just you an' Dante's aunt, a couple of his cousins--an' you know most of our friends. We can all fit back there, no problem."_

"That small?" Stef asks. "You don't wanna go all out? I'd help pay for it, if that's the problem."

_"Nah. Neither of us want somethin' that big._ You're _the one who likes bein' the center of attention, Stef."_

"I guess that's true." It makes sense that Marco would want something small and intimate like that. He's not the kind of person who'd want to get all sappy in front of a bunch of extended family and plus-ones at a big venue. That's _definitely_ Stef's speed, though. They'll wear something white and androgynous, frills and coat tails and _definitely_ a veil. They'll get up in front of anyone who'll come and proclaim their love for all to hear! And--

And.

Hm.

_Marriage._ That's a thing that people do sometimes, when they're in a serious romantic relationship and they decide they wanna _be together forever_ or something like that. That's what their brother is doing soon, with Dante. And that's something _they_ want, someday. Eventually.

With Gabe?

Oh, _heck._ They're getting all flustered! They clear their throat. "Uh, anyway," they say, suddenly aware of the lengthy silence between them. "I really _am_ happy for you, Marco. If you need any help planning stuff, you know where to find me!"

_"Yeah. I might take you up on that offer."_ Marco pauses. _"I'll let you go. I just wanna say... thanks, Stef. I love you."_

"Love you too, baby bro. Proud of you."

After they hang up, Stef lays down on the couch, folding their hands on their chest and staring up at their ceiling. _Marriage._ That's where this kind of thing usually leads, right? They've never been in a relationship as serious as this one with Gabe. It's _way_ too soon to actively think about that kind of thing. Right?

Right.

But still... if this relationship is _serious,_ then _eventually_ they're gonna get to the point where they _do_ have to think about it. Right? So if they think about it just a _little_ bit right now....

They can totally see themself waking up next to Gabe every morning, kissing him goodbye as they get up to go to work (well, honestly it would be the other way around, because he gets up even earlier than _they_ do every morning, but that's _beside the point)._ They can see themself sitting on the couch with him every evening, playing board games at the table. 

They can see themself _helping raise Georgie._

And that's when they force themself to stop thinking about this, pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes and letting out a slow, steady sigh.

They can't keep thinking about this. They don't even know if Gabe would _ever_ want to get married, or tie himself down to one person--to _Stef--_ for _life._

When is an appropriate time to talk about this? When is _too soon?_

Well, whatever. If there wasn't a _too soon_ for Marco and Dante _getting engaged,_ then there's probably not a _too soon_ for Stef and Gabe to _have a conversation_ about the _possibility_ of getting engaged, months or years or _decades_ down the road.

Right?

Right.

**Wednesday, August 26.**

"I made a drawing for Stef today," Georgie tells him. She's sitting in his lap on the couch, the AC blowing icy wind over both of them. "Can you give it to 'em? When you see 'em tonight?"

"Sure thing, kiddo," he says, and leans forward to kiss her temple. "Where is it? I'll give it to 'em when they get here."

"Hang on." She wiggles out of his lap and runs off to her bedroom, only to return moments later with a rectangle of paper in her hand. She holds it out to him, and he takes it, peering curiously down at it. It's a handmade envelope, carefully folded from a single sheet of plain white paper and sealed shut with an orange heart-shaped sticker. On the other side, she's written _"Stef"_ in red curly-cue letters.

"It looks very important," he tells her. "I'll make certain they get it."

She nods. "See that you do," she says gravely, and holds a stern face for a few seconds before grinning. "Don't look at it before they open it, okay? It's for _them."_

"I promise I won't peek," he says. He's curious about what she's drawn. Georgie's usually very open about her artwork and other projects. This must be something very special to her.

There's a knock at the door, followed by a cheerful, "Hi, sweeties! I'm here!"

"Coming, Lola!" Georgie calls, and hurriedly grabs her backpack. She leans in to give Gabe a peck on the cheek before she leaves. "Lola's gonna help me put some patches on my backpack tonight!" she tells him. "So it can be all ready for school next week!"

"Great," he calls as she runs to the door. "Can't wait to see it all finished!"

"Bye, Gabe!" Lola calls in the split second between Georgie opening the door and closing it behind her. He waves to them both through the window, and then gets up to get himself ready for his date.

This is going to be their last mid-week date until... winter break, probably. December feels forever away. He's going to miss seeing them as often as he has been. He wishes he didn't have to work so hard to schedule in time with his daughter and with his datemate, but, well. It was _his_ choice to become a damn _business owner._

Gabe dresses himself in the outfit Georgie had helped him pick out earlier: a button-down with a crazy pattern, and a comfortable pair of jeans she'd helped him bedazzle the hell out of when she was seven. His lower half sparkles like a disco ball whenever he moves, and he thinks Stef'll love it.

He glances in the mirror, finger-combs his hair into place. Should he put some makeup on? Maybe some eyeshadow and mascara. Well, but they're gonna be outside the whole time, in the _dark._ Stef won't even be able to see it. ...Who cares? Makeup's fun, sometimes.

He's just finished applying a layer of bright purple lipstick when he hears another knock at his door. He quickly caps the tube of lipstick and sets it down before rushing for the door and opening it.

And there's Stef on his porch, looking as gorgeous as ever. Their hair is brighter than usual, and tied back in a ponytail. They're wearing a soft gray tank top over a pair of thin leggings. They're gonna be cold later.

"Stef!" he says, leaning in for a kiss. "Hey, lemme grab my jacket and we can go."

They grab onto the collar of his shirt, keeping him from pulling away. "What, no proper greeting?" they ask, and kiss him again.

Gabe leans into them, putting his hands on their waist and pulling them up against him. It's a slower, deeper kiss than they normally greet each other with, and Gabe doesn't exactly mind. When they do pull away, however, he can't help but wonder if this kiss is setting the tone for the rest of the date.

He grabs a jacket from the hall closet--dark denim with red trim, something he thinks will keep Stef warm when they inevitably complain of being cold later--and throws it over his arm, then quickly grabs Georgie's envelope before returning to Stef on the porch. When they come into view again, he can't help but laugh.

"And just _what_ is so funny?!" Stef demands with a huff, putting their hands on their hips.

"Nothing, nothing," he says, cupping their cheek in his hand and running his thumb under their lower lip. "Purple's a good color for you, is all."

They scrunch up their face for a moment, their freckles shifting and a few little lines appearing on their nose and their forehead, before their expression changes to one of understanding, and they laugh too, touching their own lips. "Did you get your lipstick on me?" they ask. _"Gabe._ Does this _look_ like an ensemble that _purple lipstick_ goes with?"

"Yes. You need more color." He leans in and kisses their neck, then drops his hand from their face and takes their hand. "Anyway, I think it's more accurate to say _you_ got my lipstick on _yourself."_

"Pff. Yeah, just put all the blame on _me._ Typical Gabe." Stef laughs, shaking their head.

"Oh, right," he says, and hands them the envelope. "Georgie drew you something. She wouldn't let me see what it was. I think it's pretty important."

Stef stares at the envelope with a clear mix of reverence and apprehension. "Should I, like, open it in secret?" 

He shrugs. "If you want to," he says. "She just told me not to look at it until after you'd opened it."

"Okay." Stef sucks in a breath then and carefully opens the envelope. Gabe leans against the doorjamb as he watches their face.

Their expression melts into a soft look, color dusting the tops of their cheeks and their eyes taking on the glazed look of welling tears. His heart thuds in his chest, wondering what could possibly cause a reaction like that. "Everything okay?" he asks.

They shake their head, then nod, looking away from the paper and holding it against their chest. "I'm okay," they say, clearing their throat. "I just, ah, I think I'm gonna keep this to myself for now, if that's okay."

He tilts his head, concerned. "Sure, that's fine," he says, though he doesn't know _why_ they'd feel the need to do that. "Uh, it's not anything _bad,_ is it?"

"No, no," they say, shaking their head. "It's... it's perfect." They carefully fold it back up and slip it back into the envelope, then swallow, looking back up at him. Their eyes are still a little red, their cheeks flushed. "Now, are you ready to get outta here? Leave civilization behind for a little while?"

"I'll brave the desert as long as you're comin' with me, Stef."

\-----

It doesn't take more than half an hour of driving before they've left the lights and noises of town behind them, and Stef parks their car just off the road. They grab the duffel bag they've stuffed with essentials and, taking Gabe's hand, walk out into the wilderness.

"Sometimes I miss the forest from back home," Gabe says quietly. "All the tall pine trees and firs, the oak trees and the underbrush. Around this time every year, we'd go out and pick blackberries. Enough to make a couple of pies...." He trails off, and Stef's heart lurches in their chest. They did _not_ bring Gabe out here to make him feel homesick. That's the _opposite_ of what they wanted!

He keeps talking before they can reply, though. "The desert's just as pretty, though, in a different way. There's so much open space, and I can't help but love the cactuses. Uh, cacti. You know Lola gave me a recipe for prickly pear cookies the other day? I haven't tried it out yet, but I'm excited to. Food made with local ingredients is always the best, you know?"

Stef breathes out a little sigh and laughs. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm glad you've found things here that you like, even if you _do_ miss your home."

"I think it's impossible for me _not_ to miss Oregon," he says, and stumbles over something in the dark. Stef tightens their grip on his hand, keeps him from falling, and he squeezes back in thanks. "It's also pretty impossible for me to _not_ love it here, I think."

"Oh?" they keep their voice light. "And why's that?"

"You," he says, and he says it so _easily._ Stef stumbles this time, misses a step, but he keeps them upright. "And everyone else I met this year, of course."

"Right, yeah." It's a typical Gabe response, they think, and that thought makes them feel warmer inside. They stop in their tracks. "Hang on. Here's good."

"Okay. What should I do?"

"Help me lay out the blanket."

It's a big blanket, a comforter Stef's pulled out of their linen closet. Together, they unfurl it and get it flattened out on the ground. Stef kicks off their shoes and lays down, looking up at Gabe, silhouetted against the darkening sky. 

"Your date ideas are always the most fun," he says, and they watch as he unlaces his shoes and places them near the duffel bag before kneeling on the blanket and crawling over to them. "I never think about things like this. I always think of mundane things, like restaurants and ice cream and movies." He settles himself beside them, scooting closer so his arm is pressed against theirs.

"But those are all great, too!" Stef protests. They roll their neck to press their face against his shoulder. It's still warm out, the heat of the day just starting to dissipate. They press a kiss to the fabric of his shirt sleeve. 

"Yeah, but they're not as _interesting,"_ he says. "I'm not the best at thinking outside of the box, you know? I guess that's one of the reasons I like being with you so much."

"Because I think outside the box?"

"Yeah. You're weird. I've always liked weird people the best, I think. Er, sorry, maybe 'weird' is a bad thing to say, but--"

"You're weird, too. I don't think anyone who _doesn't think outside the box_ could come up with crazy outfits like yours. Or raise a daughter like Georgie, either." Their mind fills with the image of the picture she'd drawn for them earlier, the one they'd kept to themself: a colorful drawing clearly made with the aid of the brown markers they'd given her for her birthday, featuring none other than Gabe, Stef, and Georgie herself walking hand-in-hand across the grass at the park. They hadn't shown Gabe because it had just made them so _happy,_ the way she'd drawn them like they were a _family,_ and Stef had been afraid that seeing something like that would force the conversation in that direction far too early.

"I'm pretty proud about that last thing," Gabe says, the last couple of words coming out on a chuckle. His voice brings Stef back to the present, and they nuzzle his shoulder again, then look back up at the sky.

"The stars are starting to come out," they say when they notice a few pinpricks of light in the sky. Should they wait a little longer before they move forward with their conversation? Will the serious talk ruin their date? Maybe they should wait until they're both about ready to head home...

But, well, if the date's ruined by a serious conversation, then anything good that came before it won't help. And there's just something... _perfect_ about talking under the stars like this.

It's time.

They take a deep breath, staring up at the sky. "Gabe," they say, barely raising their voice above a whisper. "We need to talk."

There's a pause, and they feel him shift on the blanket. His hand finds theirs, takes it. Squeezes it. "Yeah," he says, his tone matching Stef's. "We do."

Their heart pounds in their chest; they're sure Gabe can hear it in the desert-quiet, sure he can feel it in the join of their hands. They hope he's on the same page as they are.

They think he is.

"I, ah. I've really loved seeing you. Being your datemate, I mean." Gah, that sounds lame. It's nowhere near what Stef _wants_ to say. 

"Yeah?" There's an amused note in Gabe's voice, and his hand releases theirs, pulls away just enough that his fingers can trace patterns against the palm of their hand. "I feel the same way. You're pretty great, Stef." He pauses. "Really great. Perfect. Amazing. Uh."

He sounds as awkward as Stef feels, and they can't help but laugh, rolling onto their side and throwing an arm over his chest, squeezing him. "This is ridiculous," they say against his arm. They pull back so they can look at him, see the shine of his eyes in the dark. "I'm trying to say... trying to _ask..._ how serious are we?"

"You mean our relationship?" He crooks his elbow, capturing their arm and holding it tight, running his hand over their skin until he finds their hand again. "I think we're pretty serious. I mean, what we've been through in the past few months... none of that was really _casual,_ you know?"

"Right," Stef breathes, their heart still pounding. "Right. I feel the same way. I..." _Say it, Stef, say it._ "Gabe. I love you."

It can't be more than a second or two between their statement and Gabe's response, but it seems to stretch on forever, so much _possibility_ held in that span of time, so many _what ifs_ spinning through their head as they wait for his response, as they watch him in the darkness.

His hand tightens on theirs, and the other comes up and cups the side of Stef's face, holds them with such gentle, loving _care_ that Stef feels like they might melt. 

"Stef," he says, his thumb tracing the line of their jaw from ear to chin, "I love you, too. I _love_ you. I love being with you, being _here_ with you, being-- _existing_ with you." He laughs, quiet but happy, and gently tugs their face closer to his.

He kisses them with all the passion and the heat as that first kiss, months ago in the diner. Lips sliding against lips, two people holding each other. They're here in the moment, here in the _now,_ possibilities and futures stretching out before them.

Stef breaks the kiss first, breathless, so that they can throw a leg over his torso and straddle him, looking down at him from above.

Their eyes have adjusted to the lack of light now, and they can make out his features in the dark. His broad nose and shining eyes, his curly hair spread out on the blanket behind him like a messy halo, his lips stretched into a soft smile as he watches them. They lean down and press a kiss to his lips, to his cheeks, to his nose, to his eyelids. They end with a kiss in the center of his forehead, a whispered _"I love you"_ in the dark.

"Stef," he murmurs, and they pull back, looking down at him. His eyes are closed, his expression soft. His lips move just slightly as he speaks. "I want you to be a part of my life." His hands come up and wrap around their forearms, holding them there. He opens his eyes. "Mine and Georgie's. I'm not--I'm not saying that our lives--that we have to be _together_ forever. I'm not saying we have to... to move in together, to get... to get _married._ That doesn't have to happen... _ever,_ if you don't want. I just mean... I want you in our lives. For however long you want to be in them. I love you."

"Gabe, I think I'm gonna _burst,"_ they say, and he laughs, loud and boisterous in the cooling air. "No, crap, I didn't mean to say that!" they say, and he shakes his head, pushes himself up to kiss their lips just briefly before laying back against the blanket. "I mean--I mean, that makes me so--so _freaking_ happy, Gabe. I'm not saying our lives have to go that way, either, but... if they _do._.. I'm not gonna have any objections." They lower themself back down, laying against his chest, and he brings his arms up to wrap around them. "I want to be part of your lives as long as you'll both have me, too. I love you."

"You're cute," he says, and they feel him kiss the top of their head. "Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for letting me love you."

Stef's gonna _cry._ "You're a sap," they sniffle, and he laughs again, chest bouncing against theirs. It's contagious; they laugh, too, even as those dreaded tears make their escape and drip down onto Gabe, whose only response is to cup their cheek again and gently wipe them away with his thumb.

"We're both saps," he whispers. "Now let's watch the stars together, okay?"

They kiss him once more, and then roll off of him, cuddling up against his side to watch the night sky.

It's a perfect night, one that they'll both remember forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and there we have it. the end of gabe and stef's first twelve months together. :') i really hope you enjoyed this chapter and the whole story along with it! there will of course be an epilogue posted in a couple of weeks, and then this story will be officially complete. 💖
> 
> if you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave a comment down below! i CRAVE knowledge about your thoughts!! you can also message me on my tumblr, [@enby-jetstar!](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/)💜
> 
> thank you so much for reading 💖😊💖


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello everyone!! i hope you're having a good day today! i'm sending good vibes to all of you. i hope you'll enjoy this final chapter of Playground Eyes. :') 💖
> 
> big thank you as always to my friend [Pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) and my fiance [Ace](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this! <3 you two have been such a huge help throughout this whole fic 💖😊💖

**Wednesday, June 28.**

Where the  _ frick _ is her other earring?! Ugh, normally she'd be  _ rockin' _ the asymmetric look, but she picked these earrings out  _ especially _ for today, and anyway she doesn't have any other earring that really  _ goes _ with this one. Dang it, Charlie's gonna be  _ so _ disappointed if she wears something else....

"Georgie? Do you need any help?"

She looks up from the drawer she's digging in to see her daddy standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised. As soon as her eyes land on his hair, she bursts out laughing.

"Daddy, oh my  _ gosh, _ what did you  _ do?!" _

"What?" he asks, looking hurt, but his tone of voice tells her he's joking. "Your school colors are blue and gold! I'm being supportive!"

"Uh huh," she says with a laugh. His long, curly hair, usually dyed dark purple or left his natural brown, is now parted down the middle, with one side blue and the other yellow. He's clearly done it with, like, dollar store hair spray, and the color's rubbed onto his face on both sides. She knows he doesn't mind, though. "Well, you look quite  _ splendiferous, _ I think."

He laughs. "You don't think it's too much?"

"No, I like it! It's crazy. Like you." She turns her attention back to her vanity drawer. "Daddy, do you know where my other earring is?"

"Which one?" He moves closer, peering into the drawer. 

"This one." She picks the earring up off the tabletop and shows it to him. It's a little silver hoop with three strands of blue and gold beads hanging from it. "The ones Charlie made me for tonight."

"Oh! Yeah, I found it on the floor earlier and put it on the bathroom counter--hang on--" He turns on his heel and hurries out of the room; a moment later, she hears his footsteps pounding down the stairs.

"Thanks, Daddy!" she calls after him, relieved. Well, alright then! As soon as she gets that earring, she is  _ ready! _

Holy  _ guacamole, _ she's  _ ready. _ This is  _ it! _ Georgie can't help but dance in place and let out a little squeal of excitement. It's really  _ happening! _

"Everything okay in here, kiddo?"

Georgie twirls in a circle. "Everything is  _ magnifique _ !" She stops spinning and turns to face them, straightening up and putting on an air of gravitas. "Renny... tonight is my final night of childhood. Once I don my cap and gown and cross the stage, I will also be crossing over the threshold into adulthood. I will be... a  _ high school graduate." _

Stef snorts. "You don't even turn eighteen for another  _ month, _ " they say, which is  _ so _ rude, because Georgie turns eighteen in  _ exactly 24 days, _ which is  _ way _ less than a month! 

"That is  _ beside _ the point," she says, folding her arms over her chest and pouting exaggeratedly at them. "Tonight is my first big step into adulthood! Independence!" She frowns, trying to think of another word to add in for a little extra oomph. "Uh...  _ Stardom!" _

They sniffle. "Don't say things like that! It's too  _ real!" _ Oh,  _ gosh, _ they're actually tearing up! Her renny's always been a crier.... "It seems like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms as a little baby... and now look at you... you're all grown up!" They wipe at their eyes.

Georgie rolls her own. "You didn't even  _ know _ me when I was a baby!" she protests out of habit. 

_ "That's _ beside the point!" they argue, just as Daddy reappears behind them, arm outstretched and holding none other than her missing earring.

She squeals again and hurries forward to snatch it from him, putting her hand on Stef's shoulder to steady herself. She's a little bit taller than they are, so it's easy enough to reach over them and grab it. "Thank you thank you  _ thank you!" _ she exclaims, dashing back over to her vanity to put her earrings in. Perfect! "What do you think?" she asks as she turns to face them again.

Now  _ both _ her parents have damp eyes. "Crybabies," she says, smirking.

"We can't help it!" Stef cries. "Gabe,  _ look _ at her! She's _ graduating _ !"

She rolls her eyes again and heaves a big, deep sigh. Then she opens her arms. "Fine, fine,  _ fine. _ Come gimme a hug so we can get all the mushy gushy stuff outta the way."

The words are barely out of her mouth before Daddy and Stef both sweep in to wrap her up in a big hug, squeezing her so tight she can barely wriggle her arms free to return it. She turns her head and kisses the nearest cheek--Stef's. "I love you guys," she tells them, excitement and love and  _ anticipation _ filling her chest near to  _ bursting. _ Oh, she can barely  _ stand _ the wait! 

"We love you too, Georgie," her daddy says.

"And we're so  _ proud _ of you," says Stef.

"I know," she tells them, giving them one more big squeeze.

\-----

She's never  _ seen  _ the parking lot so full! But then, there's about two hundred students in her graduating class, and who knows  _ how _ many people coming for each one. Geez, she doesn't even know how many people are coming just for  _ her. _ A lot, she thinks, even without her dad and Jason being able to make the trip.

"Okay, so, uh, where do we need to drop you off?" Daddy asks as the three of them make their way to the school's entrance. 

"I gotta get to the band room," she says. "You need to go find your seats in the auditorium!"

"Okay. Meet you out front afterward, then. We'll go get ice cream."

"I  _ love _ ice cream!"

They're almost inside when Uncle Marco catches up to them.

"Hey, Peaches," he says, nudging her arm with his elbow. "Glad I caught ya beforehand. Knock 'em dead up there tonight."

"Mr. Beauchamp says we're not allowed to do jazz hands onstage," she sighs. And after she and Sarah had worked so hard on getting the timing down.... "Where's Uncle Dante?"

"Wranglin' Calvin," he says, glancing over his shoulder. "Might be too crowded in there for 'im."

"Aw. That's okay. There's gonna be a livestream if you need it!" It would be  _ way _ better if the three of them were in the audience where she could see 'em, but she doesn't want her little cousin to have a meltdown, either.

"We'll see how it goes," Uncle Marco tells her. 

Just then, Georgie spots two of her friends inside, and the bubbly, excited feeling fills her again. "I'm gonna go get set up!" she tells her parents and uncle. "See you guys later!"

"Bye!" they chorus, and she darts inside.

"Georgie!" Charlie and Irene call, waving her over. She practically  _ sprints _ over to them, grabbing one of each of their shoulders and jumping excitedly. 

"Can you  _ believe _ it?!" she asks, even though she's been asking them--and her other friends--and herself--the same thing for nearly a month now. "We're  _ graduating!" _

"I  _ know," _ Charlie exclaims, sounding just as excited as Georgie feels. Xe grins widely when xe spots her earrings. "You're wearin' 'em! Shit, they look good on you!"

"Thanks," she says, shaking her head to make the beads swing. "They're frickin'  _ cute, _ Charlie! Now c'mon, ladies an' enbies, let's get the show on the road! _ " _

\-----

The band room is  _ packed _ tonight. She must be one of the last graduates to arrive, because the room has basically been transformed into a sea of blue, with most of her classmates packed inside and having already donned their caps and gowns.

Irene leads her to a corner of the room where her and Charlie's bags are lying against the wall, as well as one she recognizes as Sarah's, and a couple of others. Her excitement's a low, constant hum pulsing through her at this point.

"Have you seen Ava yet?" she asks as the three of them start to slip on their blue gowns. Irene's probably the one who's heard from her most recently; those two have been best friends since Stef's D&D club way back in 4th grade. And, sure enough, Irene's the one to respond, shaking her head.

"She texted me. She and Noah have to give their speeches to a bunch of teachers one more time to 'make sure they're appropriate.'" Irene rolls her eyes. "Like  _ Noah's _ gonna do anything but kiss ass in his speech."

Charlie snorts. "They're afraid Ava's gonna go all anti-capitalist in front of the big guns in the audience and ruin their chances for extra football funding next year," xe says, digging xyr cap out of xyr bag and plonking it on xyr head. 

"She tried to," Georgie says. She tugs on the sleeves of her gown to straighten them, then pulls out her own cap. "Did you hear her original speech? She went  _ off. _ It was  _ extraordinarily  _ grandiose." Where the  _ heck _ did her hair pins go? Oh, there they are. "Her mom was  _ so _ ... so  _ tempestuous _ that she made her change the whole thing. Almost wish  _ I _ coulda been salutatorian; my parents prob'ly woulda  _ requested _ I add in some snarky comments about the state of the union or whatever."

Charlie sighs wistfully. "Yeah. Your parents are the coolest."

Pride swells up in her chest. "They are," she agrees, because she'll  _ never _ deny that her daddy and Stef are  _ marvelous _ . 

"Oh, lemme help you," xe says, stepping forward and taking the pins from Georgie's hand. She bends down a bit so xe can reach her head easier and holds still as xe pins her cap in place. When xe pulls away, she straightens up and grins. "Well?" she asks, patting at her thick puff of hair. "How do I look?"

Charlie studies her for a moment, propping xyr chin in xyr hand and nodding to xemself. "Pretty damn good, I'd say!" xe says, and Georgie laughs.

"Alright, graduates!" The voice of Georgie's homeroom teacher cuts through the noise, and everyone quiets down immediately as the anticipation swells within them. "Line up in alphabetical order! We're heading to the auditorium!"

Georgie reaches out and grabs Charlie's and Irene's hands and squeezes them as tight as she can, biting her lip to hold back her squeal of excitement. This is it!

It's time to graduate!

\-----

Georgie's never been so grateful to have a last name starting with an  _ M _ as she is now, because she's lucky enough to sit right next to her friend Ricky McCullough, and right behind her  _ best _ friend, Sarah Joyner. She leans forward before the ceremony begins and pokes Sarah between the shoulderblades; Sarah turns around just enough to practically  _ blind _ Georgie with her wide grin, and then turns right back around to face forward.

She settles back into her seat and looks out into the audience as the principal begins his speech. The lights are dark out there, and it's as difficult to see individual audience members as it is during any show she's been a part of, but she squints and strains her eyes anyway, trying to make out any of her family members in the darkness.

Nope, it's no good. Everyone's too far away from the stage lights. Oh, well. At least they'll be able to see  _ her _ when she walks across the stage to get her diploma.  _ That's _ the important thing.

Georgie kind of zones out during the principal's speech, only to jolt back into reality when the people around her begin to applaud. Ricky gives her an amused look.

"Missed your cue, Martin," he teases, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

"And now we welcome to the podium this year's salutatorian, Ava Hill!"

Georgie lets out a loud  _ whoop!  _ alongside her other friends scattered throughout the group as Ava takes the stage. 

She really is  _ so _ proud of Ava. Maybe she hadn't gotten valedictorian like she'd hoped, but  _ salutatorian _ is nothing to sneeze at. Only one person gets that title, and Ava had worked her  _ butt _ off to earn it. 

"Aw, she took all the good parts out of her speech," Ricky mutters next to her, and Georgie covers the lower half of her face with her hand to hide her snort.

"It's cool," she whispers back. "One day she'll be a beloved politician and  _ no one'll  _ stop her from speakin' her mind. She'll be the first anarchist President."

"Isn't that an oxymoron?"

_ "You're _ an oxymoron."

"Will you two shut  _ up?" _ The girl to Georgie's left says, and Georgie sticks her tongue out at her, but quiets down.

She applauds as loud as she can when Ava leaves the podium to take her seat amongst the rest of the graduates, and then Georgie kind of zones out again during Noah's valedictorian speech. The buzz of anxiety and excitement is growing within her as the seconds and minutes tick down, putting her closer and closer to the main event. What if she trips while walking across the stage? Nevermind the fact that she's never once tripped onstage during a performance. What if she  _ does _ trip, tonight, in front of all these people while her daddy and Stef and who knows  _ how _ many people are undoubtedly filming it?!

More applause snaps her out of her thoughts, and she politely joins in as Noah takes his seat. Oh, good  _ gosh. _ It's time.

The principal calls out the first name, and in the seat in front of Georgie, Sarah suddenly sits up ramrod straight. Georgie knows how she's feeling, wishes she could squeeze her hand to help them  _ both  _ through this horrible,  _ exhilarating _ anticipation, but all she can do is kick her foot out and tap the bottom of Sarah's chair to remind her that she's not alone. It doesn't seem to do much, but she does see Sarah's shoulders relax ever so slightly. It's  _ something, _ at least.

Charlie is the first of Georgie's friends to make that crucial galavant across the stage, and despite being so grateful for her  _ M _ name just a little bit ago, she's suddenly green with envy over xyr  _ E _ name. Still, she cheers and yells and stamps her feet as Charlie receives xyr diploma and waves to xyr family in the audience.

More and more of the seats empty out as the principal works through the list of names. Nima goes next, and then Taylor, and then even Sarah makes the trip, strolling  _ confidently  _ across the stage. Georgie nearly screams herself hoarse, and the anticipation is sitting in her stomach like a rock now, all the seats in front of her empty. She can't imagine what poor Irene must be feeling with her  _ V _ name all the way in the back.

"Georgie Martin!"

Oh,  _ heck, _ the fateful moment has come.

Georgie rises from her seat, barely registering the friendly squeeze Ricky gives her arm, and begins her own journey across the stage. Her heartbeat thuds in her ears, she thinks she might throw up, and then--

The principal places her diploma in her hands, and she looks out into the darkened crowd, and she hears--

"Way to go Georgie!"

"We love you!"

"Georgie!"

It's her  _ family _ out there. She can make out several voices--Daddy, and Stef, and Shaw, and  _ Uncle Dante and Marco and little Calvin and--and-- _

And her dad and Jason?! They'd  _ made _ it?! 

And all of the fear in Georgie's stomach melts away. She grins so wide her cheeks hurt, delivers the crowd a perfect, sweeping bow, tucks her diploma under her arm and raises her hands to her mouth to blow two kisses to them all.

Her family's cheers grow even  _ louder, _ and she finishes her trip across the stage feeling like her heart is going to  _ burst _ from how  _ loved _ she feels.

And then, wow, she's  _ done _ it. She's  _ graduated. _

She's crossed the threshold into adulthood.

\-----

Georgie flings her arms around Sarah's and Charlie's shoulders as they leave with the crowd of other graduates  _ (holy crow, they're actually graduates!) _ and squeezes them, holding their heads close to hers. Well, as close as she can get them. They're both shorter than her, so she has to stoop a little to pull it off. She feels them both slip an arm around her waist and squeeze back, and Georgie's gut tightens. "We've really got to make this summer count," she says. "Who knows  _ when _ we'll see each other after this?!"

"Georgie," Sarah says, "we're literally going to the  _ same college. _ "

"But maybe you'll make new friends and forget all about me!" she whines, only pulling her friend closer to her. On her other side, Charlie laughs.

"As if  _ anyone _ could forget about  _ you, _ " xe says. "I think you're stuck with all of us, Georgie. As long as we've all got stable internet connections, we're gonna keep our weekly D an' D sessions goin', yeah?"

"That's true," Georgie says, the knot in her gut loosening a little. Maybe a lot will change now that they're officially part of the  _ adult world, _ but as long as she has her friends... everything will be  _ wondrous. _

"Oh, shoot, you're family's coming," Sarah mutters in her ear, pulling her arms away. "We better get out of here or we'll be swept up in all that affection! C'mon, Charlie."

"Bye, guys!" Georgie calls, waving as her friends disappear back into the crowd. 

"Georgie!" 

Georgie's head snaps toward the voice, and there's her  _ dad. _ Her  _ dad,  _ who said he and Jason couldn't make it, but who's  _ here, _ who's holding an actual-factual  _ bouquet of flowers _ in his arms!

She screeches, heedless of the eardrums of those around her, and launches herself into her dad's arms.

"Dad!" she cries, definitely crushing the gorgeously exquisite flowers.

"Munchkin!" he says with a laugh, returning the hug with full force. "Oh my  _ god, _ I'm  _ so _ proud of you, baby! You looked so beautiful up there!"

"I love you so much," she tells him.

"Now, now," says the voice definitely belonging to Jason. "You're ruining the bouquet." He tuts, and Georgie pulls away from her dad enough to see Jason hovering over his shoulder, smiling softly. "Congrats, Georgie."

"Thanks, Jason!" she says, reaching over to grab his arm and pull him into the hug, too. She hasn't seen either of them in person in  _ months, _ not since spring break!

Pressure on her legs. She pulls away from her dad and Jason and looks down to see tiny little Calvin wrapped around her legs, beaming up at her with a gap-toothed smile. He doesn't say anything, but Georgie knows he's proud of her, too. She laughs and leans down to give him a squeeze, too.

And then the rest of her family appears. Uncle Marco, who pulls Calvin up to sit up high on his shoulders. Her daddy, whose blue and yellow hair has stained the collar and shoulders of his shirt. Stef, who throws an arm over Uncle Dante's shoulders while the two of them laugh and grin. Everyone surrounds her, hugging her and congratulating her and it's all  _ so much, _ so much happiness and joy. She's a  _ high school graduate _ now! She's going off to college in the fall! And she's a part of a huge family who loves her and who she knows will support her no matter what. 

"C'mon, kiddo," says her renny, when the excitement and noise has died down a bit. "Let's go get you that ice cream."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and so it ends. 💓
> 
> thank you so much for reading this fic all the way to the end. when i started this, i had no idea how 2020 would turn out, and i had no idea how comforting i'd find it to write this story about normal people leading normal lives and bettering themselves and experiencing love! i hope you enjoyed reading this fic even half as much as i enjoyed writing it. it seems so weird to me that it's come to an end, but i'm glad to see it finished.
> 
> as always, feel free to leave kudos or a comment, because i love to hear your thoughts! you can find me on tumblr [@enby-jetstar](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/).
> 
> thank you for being here 💖
> 
> EDIT: check out this awesome art by my fiance of the final scene! i CRIED!!! <3 [[LINK to tumblr]](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/post/638052872325677056/enby-jetstars-playground-eyes-comes-to-an-end)


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